Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Yesterday afternoon a girl I work with (inconveniently enough, named April) and I explored the upper levels of the Student Union building, part of which is still under construction. We peeked through some double doors to ooh and aah at the bared drywall and unfinished flooring. Piled against one wall was a yellow mound of insulation, into which I was tempted to fling myself and was restrained only by my knowledge that the ensuing body rash would not be pleasant.
We discovered ten or twelve cubicle rooms of perhaps six-by-six feet each, which contain nothing save one floor lamp and between two and three lounge chairs. For a long time April and I pondered the purpose of these rooms. I feel there must be some clandestine intent, but of what I cannot ascertain. We may have to return to hunt for further clues.
Having suddenly an urgent need to empty my bowels, I entered the bathroom and nearly died of ecstasy, for the smell was of clean! The room was bright and shiny, with the reflections and counter-reflections of scrubbed sinks, metallic stall doors, and toilets not yet befouled (though I shortly took the opportunity to rectify that status). April and I exited the room quite dazed. I wish I was strong enough to rip out one of the toilets for my dorm. Running around freely somewhere is some girl who does not sit down to urinate, and when I find her, I am going to rub her face in it.
I also learned yesterday that the cartoonish figures composing the statuary between the Student Union building and the library are anatomically correct (as much as fantastic characters can be). The women have nippleless breasts, and the males have... thingies... which I presume represent penises (circumcized, of course- Texas Tech is a conservative campus).
The figures are tiny not-people people climbing a tall stack of books. Two or three of the males are grasping the book binding and are frozen in Superman flying-through-the-air position, as if blown by the ever-present and ever-irritating Lubbock wind... their little thingies are blowing straight out, as well, which I find a little unrealistic.
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 7:24 AM]