December 18

HARVARD ON THE PLAINS

Here’s just how fun my classes are …

True story.

I got up (don’t ask me how) to get to my 7:30 in the morning math class, only to find that my professor didn’t bother to show. Instead it’s a TA, about two years older than me, who looks like he’s scared all of us mild-mannered math geeks are suddenly going to grow fangs and, you know.

Most of the class — the few who showed up — immediately put on their headphones and checked out for the duration, so maybe they knew something I didn’t.

“Friction!” Mr. TA said, kind of feverishly nervous. “Who can tell me about friction? Anyone?”

I slowly raised my hand. He smiled at me. Desperately. “I know. Can we skip ahead, since nobody else is listening?”

“No,” he said. “I — ah — have notes.”

And so began the slowest hour and a half of my entire life. Yawning didn’t stop him. Neither did heavy sighs and flipping through the book.

I was about to put my head down and nap when he said, “Cheerleaders are important to friction.”

I kind of had to hear that. So, apparently, did a couple of other people. Headphones came off. Mr. TA ran to the chalkboard and drew a pyramid. Then a big block. Then a team of people pulling the block. “You see? In order to build the pyramids they workers used to pull them with ropes, but some genius realized that rolling them along on logs was much easier. Because of friction.”

Someone raised a hand. “Er … and the cheerleaders?”

He drew someone standing off to the side, holding a big stick.

“Cheerleader,” he said. “Ancient Egyptian style. Very important to understanding friction. And deadlines.”

See? Quality education. And no, I have no idea what he was smoking.

Yes, I got an A on the quiz.

Yes, one of the answers was “cheerleaders.”

December 18

VAMPIRES EVERYWHERE…

There are days you can walk around Morganville all the time and never see a hint of one of the Fang Gang, which is actually okay with me.

And then there are days when you just can’t seem to avoid running into them every time you turn a corner. Like today. Common Grounds for coffee: there’s Oliver staring me in the face, baring his teeth (not the long pointy ones) and pretending to be a nice guy as he makes my mocha. On the way to class: took a shortcut through a tunnel and ended up nodding hello to one of the undead, who happened to be on his way to, ah, teach. Then Myrnin was holding one of those weird little whispered conspiracy conversations with a couple of his vampire friends when I went to work in the afternoon.

I was actually relieved to get back to the Glass House and hang with my friends, and was cheering Shane on (that’s my role) in his latest video game grudge match with Michael, for who would do the laundry, when I realized that I was still running into vampires.

Michael. Not that Michael in any way really acts like one. I forget he’s not just what he appears to be, and I think he really likes it that way.

Oh, and before I went to bed, Amelie dropped by. No idea what she wanted; she doesn’t come right out and say, and I’ve learned not to ask. Sometimes I think she might be lonely, really. Not that I’d say it.

Here’s the funny thing I just realized: I ran into about half a dozen vampires today, and none of them tried to kill me.

In Morganville, that’s genuine progress.

June 15

MY BOSS IS CRAZY.

A short summary of why my job sucks. Literally.

My boss is crazy.

Also, my boss is a vampire who wears really funny clothes. And flip flops. And has been known to munch on his assistants, to the point of needing new ones.

Yeah.

Lucky me, huh? Just part of the whole Claire Danvers experience.

I swear, if it wasn’t for Eve and Michael and Shane, I’d just … yeah. I don’t know what.

Especially Shane. I can’t wait to see him!