Okay, she'll need to dip into a room.
She changes into the garb of an English professor holding a book...
...well, she changes into the garb of an English professor. Apparently the "holding a book" part does not work. Inconvenient.
Can she get a bookbag with Charles Dickens' Great Expectations in it? No? Just a generic bookbag, and she feels strongly it has a book in it... no.
Damn.
That puts a wrench in a lot of her plans.
Her backpack from the fall of 1987, when she was auditing political science at UCLA. She can picture it clearly in her mind: brown with a silver buckle, the left strap frayed and with a faint stain of mustard. Inside is her pencil case containing a yellow highlighter, a blue pen, a black pen, an unsharpened pencil, a sharpened pencil and a tiny black pencil sharpener; and with it is a blue pocket notebook with a black ribbon bookmark and a horizontal black line instead of her name on the cover; and finally there's Political Science: An Introduction, Second Edition, Michael G. Roskins. She carried exactly to class every Monday, Thursday and Friday for ten weeks without fail. She's now wearing it.
She takes it off and opens the flap.
There it is.
Maybe there's an easier way. Armsmaster's helmet has translation programs loaded in; she hasn't worn it before, but she's seen it. Is that enough to work off of...? No. She can make something which looks like it, but which is clearly lacking a lot of features and doesn't have the right software loaded.
She pokes her head back out.