Lurched from confines of the bed after much deliberation and mental roughage about forecoming events of the day. Gas guzzled my way to Charleston for an interview with chair of language department at two o'clock, arrived an hour early. Meandered aimlessly with map in hand to find intersection of Liberty Street and St. Philips Street until I asked a passer by student who then directed me to a grey four story building without a single foreign language class, helpful. With only thirty minutes at hand I pilfered through my overstuffed pockets for the miniscule paper describing directions to the correct building. Ah, arrival, T minus ten minutes. Dr. Uwah motioned very demonstratively with his hands and sincerely with his smile for my parents and I to enter. So casual... intimidation levels plummeted. Bilingual at the end with a closing 'jamais au revoir, toujours a bientot' as he welcomed me to visit anytime to improve my unkempt loose ended french. He was impressed,I was equally impressed with the foreign language department- interdisciplinary studies with art history (Modern Art and France in the Thirties), a specialized house reserved for nine francophones, continuing research into French culture, new exchange in Tours, the Loire Valley ( breathtaken is an understatement), and the creme de la creme... i will probably advance to level 300 French and receive hours for level 100 and 200 courses I did not take! A total of 9 hours already completed before enrollment. Shook his hand, strolled out of the office head held high. Walked up King Street, down Meeting. Found two pairs of low heeled flats at a reasonable price, replacement for heel-eroded others. Substituted coffee for dinner, gingerly dipped crackers in cup. Parted the sea of tourists blocking the pathway to parking garage. Looked over shoulder while crossing Cooper River Bridge, weighing the comfortability of coastal life and nodding my head.