Graduate Carrel 5E, Herman B Wells Library
This life is not worth examining.
It is if there is something you’d die for.
For if there is nothing you’d die for, then
there is nothing to live for either.
I don’t know how to live
What is the best way to live happily?
I lost my way.
Listen to Frank Zappa, he has ALL the answers.
WTF, indeed.
Today’s bit of wisdom from the graduate study carrels: You may feel shitty right now, but it will get better.
I was late to work today. Woke up with a migraine, took meds, and went back to sleep. When I woke up (all better!), I debated whether I should take the whole day off or go to work late. Responsible me decided to go to work. Irresponsible me decided I should park on campus and walk downtown to the public library, first.
Irresponsible me won the debate. It was a hot, muggy morning, but not too bad for walking. And I got some books that my library doesn’t have. Then on the way back, I entered work through the loading dock. I never do that. There is a patch of gorgeous echinacea growing by the entrance dock. Bonus!
One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.
Graduate Carrel, Herman B Wells Library 10E
This one seems to have been a group effort.
Someone else has noticed the penises. Not like they’re difficult to miss.
Yes. Yes, he is.
The fire alarm went off today. It was a good excuse to watch the new Global Studies building going up in what was once the library parking lot.
I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe
Herman B Wells Library 5E
It’s still freezing cold on our floor. Just on our floor. So my solution is to take periodic breaks to walk and warm up. I usually go up to the stacks and do a couple of laps, and when I see interesting graffiti in the study carrels, I take photos. Most of it is penises. Lots and lots and lots of penises. So many, I could do an entire Tumblr of nothing but Penises of the Library. I will spare the world that, though. There are also a lot of frat boys leaving their letters everywhere. I assume they are the penis enthusiasts, as well. And they like to homo-bait each other. Occasionally, though, a small gem can be seen, glittering among the steaming piles of crap. It’s never art, exactly, but it makes a nice change from “Bob has a tiny dick” and “Bill gives blow jobs to [dudes from X frat]” and “[X frat] all have AIDS.”
Oh, the other thing they like to do is mark their territory with “X and Y fucked on this desk.” I didn’t think it was possible for my opinion of frat boys to get any lower. I was WRONG.
Where there is love, I’ll be there.
False. I’ll be at the library.
Graduate Carrel, Herman B Wells Library 7E
red paper boat 