if you assemble a pack of college students and faculty in a room to watch an amateurish university of california video on comparative cross-cultural nonverbal communication, you should expect everyone to be flipping one another off and performing the Hindi gesture for "you are a pussy" to his/her respective neighbour. but somehow my roommate and i were the only ones trying to convey to one another through our newly-acquired gesticulations that we had screwed one another's moms. speaking of which, my roommate has bowed to international pressure and stopped hating me. and in its last week the serbo-croatian class is de-balkanizing itself and overcoming its centuries-long antagonisms. my neighbour/classmate kata has even asked me to make her a mix cd of jugoslavian music--little does she know that all this time i've been lying in wait for someone to give me a pretext for burning a CD of the most touching music ever to fall upon my eardrums like flower-scented dew drops. and it's sort of a consolation that the temperature has plummeted under 103 degrees as of late. yes, i'd say the only thing that could stop me now is a devastating secret from my past. . .