Fuck that.
I'm sitting on the bank of the Mississippi in a town of maybe 1500 people and somehow there is an open wireless connection! Amazing.
For anyone who cares, I will return to Ames tomorrow for a while. As in, a few days.
I'm trying to decide about this grad student orientation thing Friday. The grad student picnic is totally out, after analysis of the promo flyer revealed a cartoon hot dog holding a rainbow of balloons. That and, the promise of hamburgers to be provided by the ISU meat labs.
I haven't been on the blog much lately, what with not having an internet connection, being squeamish about the Follies, etc., etc. But Dave, thanks for being the one to be in touch with Paxton.
After all my determination to sit this year out, and being unsure of whether or not I'll be in town (still unsure), I find myself unexpectedly a little sad not to be in. Mostly there's this lazy relief, but beneath it all, like a squad of miniature crocodiles tunneling beneath the fluffy glaze atop a cake, is the littlest bit of regret.
The littlest bit.
Nick, last night I dreamt that we went to an amalgam of Hess Drug, a bar, and Subway. Unfortunately, the whole dream was spent fighting the clerk over a fuck up in our bill...we'd only ordered the 6-inch vodka and cranberry plus phosphate, but were charged for two 12-inchers and a bag of baked Lays.
Fuck that.
For anyone who cares, I will return to Ames tomorrow for a while. As in, a few days.
I'm trying to decide about this grad student orientation thing Friday. The grad student picnic is totally out, after analysis of the promo flyer revealed a cartoon hot dog holding a rainbow of balloons. That and, the promise of hamburgers to be provided by the ISU meat labs.
I haven't been on the blog much lately, what with not having an internet connection, being squeamish about the Follies, etc., etc. But Dave, thanks for being the one to be in touch with Paxton.
After all my determination to sit this year out, and being unsure of whether or not I'll be in town (still unsure), I find myself unexpectedly a little sad not to be in. Mostly there's this lazy relief, but beneath it all, like a squad of miniature crocodiles tunneling beneath the fluffy glaze atop a cake, is the littlest bit of regret.
The littlest bit.
Nick, last night I dreamt that we went to an amalgam of Hess Drug, a bar, and Subway. Unfortunately, the whole dream was spent fighting the clerk over a fuck up in our bill...we'd only ordered the 6-inch vodka and cranberry plus phosphate, but were charged for two 12-inchers and a bag of baked Lays.
Fuck that.
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