I had a dream about Brown last night. All I really remember is going to get food somewhere, accidentally only buying a cup of maple syrup, thinking about just eating it, and then deciding that I needed to go to the Blue Room to get a muffin. But then they were out of muffins. Also, I was locked out of my room, although I specifically remembered picking up my keys and leaving the door unlocked.
I take this all to mean that I've fully assimilated to college life.
Last weekend, a penis appeared on the wall outside my hallway. I suspect the athletes down the hall are responsible, but I suspect them and their athletic cohort responsible for most bad things that happen on the hall. It's possible that an unrelated band of hooligans just saw the stretch of drywall and decided it needed some phallic imagery (they should have gone with an obelisk), but even then I would suspect that the perpetrators were athletes of some sort. Damn athletic hooligans.
Yesterday, in a fit of madness (I've been having those lately), I bought a sharpie and turned the penis into a fish. It still looks like a penis, but it has eyes and I turned the poorly-drawn testicles into a poorly-drawn fish tail. Now it's a dick-fish, which is better than just a penis on the wall.
Again, taking ownership of my surroundings and feeling assimilated. That's what's happening right now.
Speaking of surroundings, I managed to omit a real conversation from the Monopoly game the other night that I feel is worth sharing, because I laughed.
Mark: Who owns Virginia?
John: I own it. It's in my pants!
Me: Incidentally, I grew up in Virginia.
John: Well... then you grew up in my pants! ... I'm sorry. That was inappropriate.
So that happened.
Love always,
Clara
I take this all to mean that I've fully assimilated to college life.
Last weekend, a penis appeared on the wall outside my hallway. I suspect the athletes down the hall are responsible, but I suspect them and their athletic cohort responsible for most bad things that happen on the hall. It's possible that an unrelated band of hooligans just saw the stretch of drywall and decided it needed some phallic imagery (they should have gone with an obelisk), but even then I would suspect that the perpetrators were athletes of some sort. Damn athletic hooligans.
Yesterday, in a fit of madness (I've been having those lately), I bought a sharpie and turned the penis into a fish. It still looks like a penis, but it has eyes and I turned the poorly-drawn testicles into a poorly-drawn fish tail. Now it's a dick-fish, which is better than just a penis on the wall.
Again, taking ownership of my surroundings and feeling assimilated. That's what's happening right now.
Speaking of surroundings, I managed to omit a real conversation from the Monopoly game the other night that I feel is worth sharing, because I laughed.
Mark: Who owns Virginia?
John: I own it. It's in my pants!
Me: Incidentally, I grew up in Virginia.
John: Well... then you grew up in my pants! ... I'm sorry. That was inappropriate.
So that happened.
Love always,
Clara
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