Summers without Yards: Inappropriate

What can I say? What can I blog? It's another pleasant SC summer afternoon, temps hovering around 70, scattered clouds and ocean air. But I'm in my third-floor apartment. B's in Santa Rosa for homie SJ's bachelorette party. But I'm in my third-floor apartment. Somewhere in the United States, a poverty of grad students* has gathered in a grassy yard to talk some smack about university politics and share gallows humor about ever finding jobs. But I'm in my third-floor apartment. I'm complained about this before, but I will say it again: what kind of an idiot sets up a town in a temperate zone like this with no fuckin' yards?!

Screw that idiot. Screw him right in his poor municipal design.

Anyway, in other news, I finished teaching my first class on Thursday. I'm still stewing over lessons learned from lessons taught and will post about that some other time. Mostly, my heart isn't in the analysis since I have to start teaching my next one on Tuesday.

* A group of graduate students is called a "poverty." It's like "murder of crows" or "parliament of owls."

P.S. For the comic with the cadence, see achewood's typically-brilliant "my car has been shot."

1 comment:

noncoupable said...

That is the advantage of our house. It doesn't have much of a yard, but it has a porch outside, and the downstairs can be transformed into feeling outside by opening up all the windows.

This is also why I used to hang out at Lulu's for hours on end last summer in the front or back. I only paid for one coffee and I took lunch with me in my bag (pb&j).

You know what's crazy? In Berlin the weather stinks most of the year, but L and I have been eating outside on one of our two (one in the living room, one in the bedroom) balconies almost every night since I arrived. It has a roof for when it rains.