The Nature Of The Beast

There are certain truths about life in Grenada. For instance, one’s expectations of what is “convenient” must shift for maximal adaptation. There are those among us, including myself from time to time, that either forget this fact, or never learned it in the first place. Case in point – summer storage.

The “well adjusted” perspective would realize that it is incredible that the school not only thought to provide us with it, but seems to have SOME sort of system in place with which we can in fact place belongings in between terms.

Then there is the “But, I’m still in America” perspective. This outlook is appalled at everything ranging from the sparse hours that are available to actually place your things in aforementioned storage location to the fact that there is a disclaimer stating that SGU is NOT responsible for any stolen or damaged items. Furthermore, they are enraged at the shear number of logistics they are being asked to undertake themselves in order to be moved out in the time and manner outlined by the housing office.

In the words of one of my favorite bloggers and fellow students, all I can say is, T.I.G.

The sooner you take it to heart, the better off you’ll feel.

P.S. - finals went beautifully, now all I have to do is take the PMSCE on Monday and I'll be home onThursday!!

Miss Manners

I know we’re all a tad stressed out heading in to the home stretch here, but I’m not completely sure how that needs to correlate with the state of affairs in Taylor Hall these days. To start with, when I arrived at this palatial hall of perfect cubicles and wireless internet this morning, it was looking much less than it’s usual pristine self. There was trash everywhere. Partially filled water bottles were strewn all around, candy wrappers, plastic bags, a sticky dried soda spill……At some point before 9:00 AM the cleaning staff came through. But, I honestly don’t think that they should be picking up our trash.

Cut to later this evening – same location. I left for an hour and change to eat and breathe a bit. But, knowing that I needed to keep my claim clear on my favorite spot, I, like most of us, left behind some items to make it obvious that this particular cubicle was spoken for. These items were not at all small and hard to notice. I left a sweatshirt hanging over the back of the chair, two books (one of them is approximately 4 inches thick and bright red – pretty hard to miss), and some notes. When I returned, in addition to what I had left there, I saw an empty backpack on top of the desk along with a huge stack of notes, an ID with attached keys, and a cell phone.

Perhaps I wasn’t clear – this is not the storage cubicle. I’ve been sitting in the SAME spot since 6:45 AM this morning. I asked out loud whose things they were only to discover that they belonged to the gentleman on my right. He reluctantly took back his things and assembled them at his OWN cubicle immediately adjacent to the one I had been using. I was shocked that there was absolutely no attempt at an apology. It was more a look of resentment for coming back and crowding his personal space even more in these anxious days of cramming.

So, to you in the red shirt on my right I say – I am sorry that your manners got left at your departure terminal. I do hope you find them soon.


Now, back to the male reproductive system. May "Red Shirt Guy" use it with caution.


Yes. Finals really do bring out the best in moi.