What a slum.

I went to the office, after saying good bye to my uncle. I was told that the place I needed to be was down the street. I was escorted down the stairs and back out onto the street. Hastings street. It was cold and not that nice out, though earlier in the day it had been slightly sunny. I could see my breath either way and I was very nervous. New country, new people, new institution, new new new.

We made our way down hastings past the sketchy looking memorial park, and another block down we found our way around the corner into 420 Homer street. It was slick looking inside, and everything was very new and exciting. I was pushed through the door and smacked in the head with the booming voice of George Johnson. He told me I hadn't missed too much but I would have to work hard to catch up. Thanks for keeping up appearances George! I sat awkwardly in the front with my huge jacket and prepared to take notes. We watched a few short documentaries shot at VFS that day.

Also I was introduced to some people. George asked Jason Segal to show me the ropes. He was kind of the leader of a group of dudes made up of Dave Sarneki, Levon Motut, and himself. The young guys. I didn't really fit but I went out of my way to be nice because they seemed to be nice enough.

We broke because class had already been going for a good two hours by that point and a tall cute skinny girl kind of walked up to me and I think she even shook my hand. Her name was Monique and she was pretty. I don't remember meeting anyone else that day but I'm sure it happened. I don't really remember the rest of that day at all. I think that was the only class for the day at all, or maybe we went to lunch somewhere or something like that. I didn't have a camera so there were no pictures.

These memories will become clearer with time, they usually do anyway.

Playlist: STILL THE FUCKING HALO BENDERS AND BEER.