It smelled today on campus like hot mud. That smell of mud that has been allowed to sit too long without nature's equivalent of refrigeration. That smell always reminds me of bees for some reason. Actually, not "some" reason, really two reasons.
Reason one is that when I was a sloppy barefooted youngster running amok (a-mud?) in my parent's orchard after a bout of irrigation, it always seemed that there were bees hovering near these particularly smelly, clear and shallow puddles. My solution to this was of course to stomp with great deliberation in the cool, clean mud in order to create a sole of mud on my foot to deter the bees from getting any ideas about stinging my under-foot. Hence hot mud smell = bees.
The second reason is a lot less down-homey. I recollect reading somewhere in my literary travels through the midwest that the solution to a painful bee sting is to slather it in clay. And since I got a flat B in geology way back in freshman year, clay is mud to me.
My day was relatively uneventful and glum, so I guess I will talk about what happened to me at school today. I suppose that I should have mentioned when undertaking my great blog revolution that I am absolutely shit at transitions, and so am likely to bellow on about school more than usual as good old card-board-hat-day approaches.
Today in my sociology class we were supposed to be talking about doing queer readings of straight texts, which mostly boils to reasoning out exactly why people were sure that Xena wanted to get with her sidekick, that chick who fought with a staff [non-phallic-ly]. What we actually did amounted to watching a centipede chase the professor around the room at a very slow clip. This devious centipede was prowling about the front space of the room, causing the professor to often stop her rant on why Lucy was in love with Ethel in order to shift slightly and place the podium between herself and those 100 legs of evil. This happened repeatedly throughout the hour and a half lecture until both the professor and the centipede had made several circuits of the podium. Noticeably no one offered to remove the offending bug. I certainly would have, if gloves and extra credit had been offered.
After some more education I tottered off to my internship where I amused myself for a long time color-coding my databases and pretending that the office was mine. I sometimes try to think of what my own office would be like. Would I go totally Spartan or would I display pictures of family and pals? Would I paste up comics torn from the newspaper and copied/enlarged? Or maybe particularly lol-ish forwarded emails where the punchline involves Hilary Clinton being somewhat harsh towards Bill Clinton in their domestic life?
These issues require greater consideration than I can now afford, since I should be reading a book about "Colonists, Christianity, and Community." The one thing that I know for sure is that when I have an office I will be 103% behind comedy mugs full of pens.
Reason one is that when I was a sloppy barefooted youngster running amok (a-mud?) in my parent's orchard after a bout of irrigation, it always seemed that there were bees hovering near these particularly smelly, clear and shallow puddles. My solution to this was of course to stomp with great deliberation in the cool, clean mud in order to create a sole of mud on my foot to deter the bees from getting any ideas about stinging my under-foot. Hence hot mud smell = bees.
The second reason is a lot less down-homey. I recollect reading somewhere in my literary travels through the midwest that the solution to a painful bee sting is to slather it in clay. And since I got a flat B in geology way back in freshman year, clay is mud to me.
My day was relatively uneventful and glum, so I guess I will talk about what happened to me at school today. I suppose that I should have mentioned when undertaking my great blog revolution that I am absolutely shit at transitions, and so am likely to bellow on about school more than usual as good old card-board-hat-day approaches.
Today in my sociology class we were supposed to be talking about doing queer readings of straight texts, which mostly boils to reasoning out exactly why people were sure that Xena wanted to get with her sidekick, that chick who fought with a staff [non-phallic-ly]. What we actually did amounted to watching a centipede chase the professor around the room at a very slow clip. This devious centipede was prowling about the front space of the room, causing the professor to often stop her rant on why Lucy was in love with Ethel in order to shift slightly and place the podium between herself and those 100 legs of evil. This happened repeatedly throughout the hour and a half lecture until both the professor and the centipede had made several circuits of the podium. Noticeably no one offered to remove the offending bug. I certainly would have, if gloves and extra credit had been offered.
After some more education I tottered off to my internship where I amused myself for a long time color-coding my databases and pretending that the office was mine. I sometimes try to think of what my own office would be like. Would I go totally Spartan or would I display pictures of family and pals? Would I paste up comics torn from the newspaper and copied/enlarged? Or maybe particularly lol-ish forwarded emails where the punchline involves Hilary Clinton being somewhat harsh towards Bill Clinton in their domestic life?
These issues require greater consideration than I can now afford, since I should be reading a book about "Colonists, Christianity, and Community." The one thing that I know for sure is that when I have an office I will be 103% behind comedy mugs full of pens.
