Trinity University

You know something I'm really grateful for right now?

The gag reflex.

You wanna know why?

Just now, I was walking from the dining hall (I can't call it a cafeteria anymore) with my eggy burrrrrrritoooo in hand and I decided to reach into the tortilla and grab a little nibble of egg. Little did I know, that nibble of egg would soon threaten my life.

So as I continued on my walk with burrito in hand, cheeks bulging with egg and the air created by my happy whistling, a funny thing happened.

(Wow. I should be more careful with my diction. I know a few people who would read that last sentence, and look back on the word "cheeks" and screw up their faces with suppressed laughter.)

You know how sometimes, when you're drinking beverages, you get so excited about the beverage you're drinking but also the prospect of perhaps drinking more beverages in the future that you breathe in really quickly and the beverage gleefully flies down into your lungs? I think that happened to me. But I was drinking no beverage. This is the difference: the kind of egg that you put into a tortilla in hopes of calling it a burrito is not liquid.

I'm always personifying things: this egg took advantage of my excitement and sudden breath by growing arms and legs. Arms and legs it decided to use for clinging. Clinging to throat parts.

I'm always personifying things: this egg probably was so excited about growing clinging arms and legs that it also grew a smile and happy eyes it used to look delighted as it clung to my throat parts.

I'm always personifying things: this is when my throat parts grew a frown and decided to take action.

And as my throat parts grew a frown, my eyes went wide and I realized, not as happily as the egg, that "Hey! I'm kind of choking!"

And my life flashed before my eyeses as I thought that this might be my last time to ever walk on a sidewalk and be excited about food or beverage or the combination of the two.

But no! Out of spite, my gag reflex happened and my throat parts kicked the egg in its happy face, out of my mouth. And I, out of spite, angled my eyebrows down, pushed the probably-not-so-happy-anymore egg to the front of my mouth, where my canines promptly minced it into more manageable pieces. And I swallowed again, and was happy.

I'm always personifying things because I don't know any better. It is quite possible that all these things happened in my mouth. To tell me otherwise is to spoil my imagination. Unfortunately, I can never enjoy any of these images in three dimensions because such things cannot be imagined without converting normal existance into cartoon existance.

And so Trinity is a place in which scenes happen that could not possibly happen in other colleges and that could not possibly be portrayed in such astounding melodrama.

The end.

Posted by Connor at 9:53 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

A learning:
People will pick things up that don't belong to them and then suddenly think that these things in fact are theirs no matter what socioeconomic background they come from.

Recently I lost my wallet.

Let me list the contents of my wallet to you, my suddenly sympathetic audience.

-Used target gift card
-Blockbuster Membership card
-Used barnes&noble gift card
-about forty dollars in cash
-debit card
-parent's credit card
-Best Buy rewards card
-picture of girlfriend
-drivers license
-health insurance card
-macy's card
-moustache disguise

That is, recently I lost my wallet, or rather, some nincompoop picked it up knowing it wasn't his, and suddenly realized that hey, now it was his. (You see, this is a part of gender profiling which actually benefits women. Usually you think of nincompoops as men.)

I know I will not marry this person. Even if he/she gives my wallet back, I know that just by teasing me and separating me from my wallet, the only thing to which I owe this person for eternity is a daily subscription to Hostile Sticky-Notes Ltd.

The thing is, I'm really not as disappointed at losing my wallet and its contents as I am at losing my drivers license. I believe I am not alone when I say that a good drivers license photo is hard to come by. I mean, you get them like, once every five years? And if you ask to retake the photo, odds are either you didn't even ask in the first place out of silly fear or the behind-the-counter lady was having a really bad day because she forgot to pluck her eyebrows and EVERYONE was noticing and she wouldn't let you retake it. But this drivers license picture which was taken was REMARKABLE. I mean, all I would have to do is flash it at the large people blocking the way to the airplanes and they would let me through. I've seen what happens when people who take bad drivers license photos try to get through to the airplanes, and now, since I have to risk a new photo, I'm terrified of the same thing happening to me.

So now I walk around with the most pitiful face on, hoping that the bumpkin that found my wallet WITH IDENTIFICATION IN IT will see me and be repeatedly touched by guilt and come yelling at my door with my wallet, beseeching me to release him of the guilt that comes with taking someones means of identification at airports.

Do you know what I will say?

I will say,

"Puhah! Knave! Get thee to thine kitchen and make me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich!"

and then he'll look really confused and I'll stop acting and say, "Okay. Yes." and take my wallet and shut the door.

Posted by Connor at 2:05 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Usually, during the months of March, February, January, and December, I assume my alter-ego, traditionally known as Daphne.

I think I'm a very pretty girl sometimes.

Afterthought:
I probably smell good from time to time, too.

Hyoo-manitee!

Posted by Connor at 11:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)