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Alive in every drop. Thank you. I've gone back and forth about whether to share this, but I think I need to put it somewhere.

This happened when I was a sophomore at school in the Northeast. I won't say which one, and I'm in Kappa.

I'm an English major, and I've always

taken my academics pretty seriously because I'm trying to get into law school after I graduate.

That's relevant context for what I'm about to tell you. Last semester, I enrolled in this

upper-level course on English Romanticism. The class was pretty small, maybe 25 students

in total, and it was mostly juniors and seniors. There was a professor who led the seminars,

of course, but most of the actual teaching was done by the TA during discussion sections.

His name was Romer, and yes, that was his real name.

I still don't know if it was a first or last name situation, but that's what everyone called

him.

He was maybe late 20s, kind of lanky, and gave off this I'm in a band but not a good one type

of energy.

He was kind of just an oddball.

Anyway, the class itself was fine, a lot of close reading, a lot of discussion about nature

...