Journalism Class - Wednesday, September 7

[jerusalem-s.livejournal.com]

((OOC - This is a lecture and Q/A session. It'll be open daily and Spider will always have something to say... if he's actually there. For student reference at the end of a class session - ie when I get home at night, the entire thing will be considated as coherently as I can manage and placed behind an lj-cut.))

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The renovations done in the classroom set aside for Journalism lecture and discussion are obvious, beginning with the giant, floor to ceiling video screens which are, for the moment, mercifully dark. There are fairly comfortable chairs scattered across the room, two or three to a table, with the maximum capacity looking to be about thirty. There are plugs set in the floor beneath each table for laptops... and other than the minimal furnishings and the professor's desk at one end of the room, there is no other furniture.

The professor looks as if he spent the night sleeping behind the desk, sprawled back in his chair, feet propped on a laptop set atop the desk and a two-faced cat with a cigarette in one mouth leaning on his feet. There is a trashcan beside him overflowing with cans and an open pizza box with half a congealed pizza in it beside him.

There is a note taped to his foot reading, “Someone wake me at 1100”.

Comments

[deadlikegeorge.livejournal.com]

George is slumped over the desk behind Jayne, her notebook and pen forgotten. Her mind drifts as Mr. Brown Recluse drones on and on about how there's not any "real" journalism around anymore. She's thinking about Seattle and the fact that she hasn't had a good cup of coffee or a bowl of oatmeal that didn't taste like she imagined joint compound does. She's thinking about how much she hates the East Coast weather. She's thinking about how much she misses home already.

She snaps out of when out of the corner of her eye she notices Jayne flirting with the prettiest girl in class. She leans over his shoulder to see his notepad is covered in doodles of what she can only guess are spiders. Thinking back to her first encounter with Jayne during Art Class signups, she makes a snarky comment. Jayne crumples up the page and throws it at her head.

George generally excels at not giving a shit, but she finds she feels a little bad about picking on Jayne so much. He's the biggest target in the room, though, she thinks to herself. She kicks the fallen ball of paper and it skitters across the room , coming to rest at Mr. Spider's feet.

George slumps back in her seat and becomes preoccupied once again with daydreams , boredom, and self pity.