New Blood

The summer's over here. The students have swarmed the town. I forget that they seem younger every year. Fresher.

I went out for cocktails with the new grads in Missy's department last night. It's been a while since I've been in public, all tequilla'd-up. Having nothing to do with the college, I occupy a rather precarious niche in the grand scheme of things. I know about all the politics, relationships, under-workings, over-workings, plans, pleas, ins, outs, scandels, law-suits, candidates for promotions and demotions among various other puzzle pieces. The students, faculty, administration and laborers all talk to me like I'm part of their group, so I maybe even have a better scope of things than anyone would like to admit. Compile all that on top of the fact that I have no responsibility to any of these people either occupationally or power-play-wise and it makes for a rather fun situation. I get to bear whatever tidings I choose and that particular position comes with a certain amount of distrust and admiration. No one wants to be censored by their position in life, but most people have to respect their colleagues in order to tolerate the day. As Mike says, you gotta be able to look the day in the face and hold your vomit.

So. . .

I got invited to a party this Sunday. The theme is Black and White Clothes that you wouldn't wear anywhere else. I'm thinking white lab-coat (which I haven't worn since I went to the Opera!) some big-ass-black-boots, a super special pair of black boxer briefs that has a skull patch sewn over the crotch and a freshly spray-painted pig mask. I'm sure I've got some black and white stripey socks around here somewhere. . .



. . . and you can be sure I'll be talking to everyone about everything. Spying around in a pig mask. Maybe tucking notes deep into the lab coat, just to keep things straight. Should be a good time.