Freaks, Geeks, and a Grandmother of Two

I'm taking Science Fiction Writing this year. We're in the process of reading "1984" by George Orwell. It's a good class, the people in this class are a lot more vocal. The discussions are good.

My professor is cute as can be. He's the typical English professor - long hair kept in a neat ponytail, white oxford covered with the obligatory tweed jacket, jeans and sensible shoes. Little round glasses. He's very easy on the eyes. He's also so laid-back, I don't think a nuclear explosion could ruffle his feathers.

What surprised me was the other students. There are the geeks and nerds, of 'course, but also a large number of older women. Secretaries like me, nurses, and a grandmother of two that is a total riot. I am the freak in this class. Among the Spock and Captain Kirk t-shirts and cotton tops with kittens on them is me. I don't mind. So far it's been a fun experience.

On the first day of class I arrived early. My classroom was still in use, so I sat on the steps trying to pick our the professor. A man came hobbling up to the door using a real walking stick. His hair was long and left to its own devices, by the look of it for a loooong time. He wore worn sandals, faded red shorts, and a safari shirt. He looked like a cross between Banana Republic and Gandolf the Gray. I thought for sure this was my professor. I was wrong. I'm partly relieved.

We are discussing Utopias. I am of the mind that the only way a true utopia can be found is in solitude. Humans contain both good and evil in their hearts. No matter how pretty or socially acceptable a place is, we humans will always muck it up. Jealousy, insecurity, greed, these things will surface no matter how peaceful the pack. Alone is the only way, and even then it is not assured. Oh well, I'll save it for my first paper.