Night Thoughts
What would you recommend to someone who's thinking about taking up yoga?
Normally I don't go in search of distractions, but I'm in desperate need of a good way to relax, and my murder mysteries ... Well, I'd like a half-hour distraction, not a six-hour nail-biter, you know?
Being that I have nothing else to say about yoga, I think I'll change the subject.
I've been stepping back and observing this campus (and other mysteries in life) again, and there continue to be certain astonishments. For instance, how is it that some people can drink nightly and still get an "A" in the hardest courses on campus? Heaven knows they're not studying as much as the rest of us.
The truth is, I just need to accept that there are geniuses (genii?) in my presence, but it irritates me that a bona fide genius might be wasting his potential.
Holy hell, I sound like an elementary school teacher.
Mild bafflement befell me yesterday while I was walking to the chemistry building (a.k.a. "Home #4"). Picture, if you would, a non-trad student. Male, roughly fifty. Kinda short, rather thin. Longish hair, in a ponytail.
Now, he doesn't have one of those rolling backpacks for which non-trads are famous. No, he's carrying a leather knapsack. BUT -- the part that got me -- was the cigar he was smoking while he walked from the student union to the libary.
Normally I don't refer to smoking as cool, but cigars are a little different, and ... I don't know. That just seemed cool. And a wee tad odd, which I usually appreciate.
Then, tonight, I was walking across campus alone when I realized -- hey, I don't think I'm supposed to do this. Isn't that something they tell you when you go to college? Don't go anywhere alone at night, don't walk in the dark without at least two other people ... But here I was, doing the same thing I do almost every night, and then I go, "Oops."
In actuality, this is a pretty safe campus. I'm not afraid to walk around alone. Don't get me wrong; you should never be completely oblivious to your surroundings. But as long as you can get past the huge sucking noises coming from March-Dake (No, seriously; they're de-asbestosizing the building and there are sucking noises on the south side. The first time a building on this campus has literally sucked), the campus is quiet and easy to observe in the dark.
And, while things have been known to happen, there's one little factor that anybody wanting to try something should consider: the high concentration of big-brother-types. Not 1984 Big Brothers, but "Where is he, I'll kick his ass" big brothers. This is a conservative state, and a large chunk of the school population was raised with the belief that you're not supposed to hit girls.
It's pretty cool, and very comforting.
It seems I've picked up some random readers from ... Actually, I'm not sure where they came from. Possibly from that little button in the upper right hand corner that says "Next Blog," or maybe because they were searching for writers with an interest in Homestarrunner.com. Je ne sais pas (the only French I've retained from freshman year). In any case, welcome to the blog, and I hope you come back. Leave a comment on your way out. Feel free to tell me if you hate it. Feel even freer to give me suggestions on what to write about.
On that note, it seems I've run out of things to say. Have a good night, folks.
People usually get what's coming to them ... unless it was mailed.
Normally I don't go in search of distractions, but I'm in desperate need of a good way to relax, and my murder mysteries ... Well, I'd like a half-hour distraction, not a six-hour nail-biter, you know?
Being that I have nothing else to say about yoga, I think I'll change the subject.
I've been stepping back and observing this campus (and other mysteries in life) again, and there continue to be certain astonishments. For instance, how is it that some people can drink nightly and still get an "A" in the hardest courses on campus? Heaven knows they're not studying as much as the rest of us.
The truth is, I just need to accept that there are geniuses (genii?) in my presence, but it irritates me that a bona fide genius might be wasting his potential.
Holy hell, I sound like an elementary school teacher.
Mild bafflement befell me yesterday while I was walking to the chemistry building (a.k.a. "Home #4"). Picture, if you would, a non-trad student. Male, roughly fifty. Kinda short, rather thin. Longish hair, in a ponytail.
Now, he doesn't have one of those rolling backpacks for which non-trads are famous. No, he's carrying a leather knapsack. BUT -- the part that got me -- was the cigar he was smoking while he walked from the student union to the libary.
Normally I don't refer to smoking as cool, but cigars are a little different, and ... I don't know. That just seemed cool. And a wee tad odd, which I usually appreciate.
Then, tonight, I was walking across campus alone when I realized -- hey, I don't think I'm supposed to do this. Isn't that something they tell you when you go to college? Don't go anywhere alone at night, don't walk in the dark without at least two other people ... But here I was, doing the same thing I do almost every night, and then I go, "Oops."
In actuality, this is a pretty safe campus. I'm not afraid to walk around alone. Don't get me wrong; you should never be completely oblivious to your surroundings. But as long as you can get past the huge sucking noises coming from March-Dake (No, seriously; they're de-asbestosizing the building and there are sucking noises on the south side. The first time a building on this campus has literally sucked), the campus is quiet and easy to observe in the dark.
And, while things have been known to happen, there's one little factor that anybody wanting to try something should consider: the high concentration of big-brother-types. Not 1984 Big Brothers, but "Where is he, I'll kick his ass" big brothers. This is a conservative state, and a large chunk of the school population was raised with the belief that you're not supposed to hit girls.
It's pretty cool, and very comforting.
It seems I've picked up some random readers from ... Actually, I'm not sure where they came from. Possibly from that little button in the upper right hand corner that says "Next Blog," or maybe because they were searching for writers with an interest in Homestarrunner.com. Je ne sais pas (the only French I've retained from freshman year). In any case, welcome to the blog, and I hope you come back. Leave a comment on your way out. Feel free to tell me if you hate it. Feel even freer to give me suggestions on what to write about.
On that note, it seems I've run out of things to say. Have a good night, folks.
People usually get what's coming to them ... unless it was mailed.
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