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12:22 p.m. - July 07, 2003
Rambling on a Monday morning, one much better spent in bed
Thunderstorm last night, an irresistable allure. I sat on the balcony in the dark listening to the steady roll and boom, closed my eyes and the after images of the lightning made my head spin. Thought about the Greek pantheon, felt for those long-ago people who inhabited locales where thunder and lightning visit rarely, how barebones their mythologies must be because while stars fall, they don't fall often enough to fill my need for legends and myth and storytelling.

Isn't that something worth pursuing? Is there a correlation between one's environment and the intellectual achievement of its inhabitants? Think about it: Constant change inspires more reflection, right? Or does little change inspire more depth? I suppose it can go either way. What is the name of the monastery on Mt. Sinai, the one where Christian pilgrims sing at dawn? I can't remember and I've been thinking about that all morning.

And what a morning. The train was stopped before Union Station because of a jumper (unofficially) and rerouted through downtown D.C.; I had to disembark at Chinatown to switch lines (green to red) and once on the red line, the train stopped again because of another jumper between Chinatown and Union Station. Ran to the classroom with syllabi in hand ready to begin the first lecture. Let us hope there are no more jumpers on the way home, eh?

Speaking of eh, my Not Very Interesting T.A. from Edmonton notes that American tuna is nasty and she much prefers the Canadian variety. Lorster, can you speak to this? I'm not a tuna fan myself but perhaps this is due to the second-rate slop I've tasted here? Not that I'm on the look out for a premium tuna to replace my cereal with blueberries, but it's something I could address with the Not Very Interesting T.A. She tries so hard and it simply enervates me. The Squirrely T.A. is less annoying but perhaps that is due to my feeling less threatened by his sexuality than I did last summer.

Um... probably not.

The second section begins today and I have only one male student. Twenty-two women, one man. Even at ye olde alma mater, with its 5-women for 1-man statistics I never had a course this stacked before (hmm... double entendres abound throughout this entry). If there's anything worse than a frat boy it's a sorority chick and I think the class is loaded; I say this because of the scents: They are legion and combat each other for dominance.

Oh. Speaking of dominance.

Last night chatted with this guy into that kind of thing. I had no idea just how depraved things can get - CBT? TT? I had to ask because I didn't know and now that I do, I don't know if I'm going to be into that any longer. Heh. It was a great conversation and we even talked on the phone for a little while though he was disappointed I wasn't interested in phone sex. What is it with men and phone sex? How can jacking off while listening to It's so tight, it's so hot, it's so good be fulfilling? I forget that one - and only - experience I had with the genre; must admit it was something else. I think that's rare. I'd like to think it is; a deterrent that way.

I'm rambling because I've nothing worth saying.


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