questionable fashion sense

I knew my painting class this semester was going to be difficult when I found out who the professor was supposed to be. I had been dreading attending for weeks upon weeks. And then Monday showed up bright eyed and bushy tailed, making me want to punch it in the face and go back to sleep.

I was so not ready for school this semester. I didn't want summer vacation to end even though it had been the poorest summer of my life. It was just starting to get good! I had been so scared all summer long to let go of PC for fear of what else was out there waiting for me, that it took me three months to finally step away from him and realize how good life could be for me. 

When we broke up I couldn't imagine what it would feel like to be in a relationship with someone else, and when that opportunity arose - I freaked out a little bit. I flipped and flopped back and forth between hanging on and leaping forward. Ultimately, I leaped forward with wild abandon and so far it's been one of the best decisions I've ever made. 

And then it was time for school to start. It was like unto blinking and everything was different. Basically it was as though my summer had completely slipped through my crooked fingers and was gone forever. So there I sat, in front of an easel, with people that I had seen just three shorts months ago. It was my first class of the new fall semester, and as I sat talking with my friend about prospected outlook of our respective class schedules, in walked our professor. 

The professor that I had been so scared of. I looked at him in a way I had never looked at another professor before, and I'll tell you why. These artist types can be so flighty you know, and I will admit that they have questionable fashion tastes at best, but this man. He was amazing unto me. 

His hair was cut short, making his glasses a more prominent feature on his face. Not only were his spectacles rather large, but also they were a translucent sky blue color. They looked plastic and cheap, but necessary. And they were perched on his rather bulbous nose. He was wearing a grey sports coat over a black dress shirt paired with black slacks that were just a tad bit too large for his frame. 

But what really got me was his choice in footwear. You'd think the sports coat and trousers would be accompanied with some nice black or charcoal grey dress shoes, right? Or perhaps a pair of boots, since after all, we are in Idaho. However, on his feet were faded purple crocks. You know, those shoes that were made for use in a garden or lounging around your backyard not to be worn in public. 

I sat for a minute just taking it all in. Purple crocks. Grey sports coat. Who knew? 

He spoke for all of 15 minutes and then dismissed us to pursue whatever else we had planned for the day. I still haven't decided how I feel about this class, being as that I detested my intro to painting class with amazing irritability. I guess we'll have to wait and see just exactly how this class plays out. This semester is already proving to be a new experience, but definitely in a good way.