Thursday, March 26, 2009

irish dance

I'm not big on mornings. Making it on time to that first class is an anomoly, to say the least. And so during the normal routine, when I'm about half way across campus, the bell tower tolls. And I worry that my ball gown will transfrom into rags and my glass glass slippers vanish into thin air. So as a meausre of prevention I keep to a very strict dress code- jeans, sweatsirt and canvas shoes. In other words, I always look like Cinderella after midnight.
The telly just informed me that this morning campers were found frozen in their sleeping bags. Yes, more victims of "Spring." After 23 years as a Utahn, I can assert with confidence that it's not Spring until June. Probably June 21. Sure there may be some days scattered here and there when the sun gently caresses your palid skin, as you put on your shades and drive with the windows down. But, honey, listen close- I only tell you this because I care- THEY'RE LEADING YOU ON. Sure it may flirt, it may even text now and again, but the cruel truth is that Spring is just not that into you, or the state you inhabit. It hurts, but you can get through this. Eat some icecream, soak in some bubbles, and remember that there are other seasons in the year. I mean, Summer has that dashing moustache and Fall sure is a snappy dresser.

2 comments:

  1. Funny, I always thought of fall as undressing.

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  2. the only thing worse than walking on campus while the bell starts ringing is walking on campus during the national anthem.

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