I'm so tired of the way I have to walk in this weather, feet lifted and planted squarely one after another in an awkward stomping shuffle. It makes me feel as though I'm pretending to be a monster, all ungainly limbs. The black ice is everywhere, and now slipperiness comes in two disguises: a thin snow whirls about in the wind and dusts the roads and paths and covers the black ice with its own deceptive slickness. I can't count how many headers I almost took.
I owe y'all posts about the tattoo and the sex workers' art show: coming soon, I promise. But for now, two snippets of conversations overheard, literally, in passing = two reminders that I live in a town full, so very full, of undergraduates:
Conversation 1
Two young men are walking towards me in Ballantine. They look like a cross between emo kids and frat boys - it's actually not that uncommon of a type in this town, at least, if not elsewhere. Boy one, in the tight skinny jeans and black framed glasses, is schooling boy two, the lumbering hulkster of the two. "Here's what you do: you get a game of spin the bottle going, with a bunch of people. That way you have to -watch- each other kiss other people..." Dating for dummies? Just what is the relationship dilemma for which this is the perfect solution?
Conversation 2
Two young ladies are walking towards me as I head into the gym. I can't describe them any more than to say, they look like the standard blonde undergrads in workout gear, those ubiquitous elastic headband thingies securing their hair. As they pass, girl 1 says to girl 2, "ew, what's baked ham?" Girl 2 replies, "you know, just regular ham, only baked." Back to girl 1: "what does 'baked' mean?" I'm seriously hoping she was only confused by the context.
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