Wednesday, April 6, 2011

For once, Art History was anything but boring.

I'm sitting in Art history, for the second hour in a row.  It shall suffice to say that the most exciting event since my arrival at school has been hearing one of my other Art History professors mutter the word 'Hanky Panky' while explaining the main theme of French Rococco paintings.

But now, there is drama, suspense, and danger!

AS PER USUAL, my cell phone thought it would be funny to stay behind in the bathroom as I walked out for my first lecture...

An hour later, upon leaving Danté's first circle of Art History hell and venturing toward the second, I noticed that my one combatant toward boredom, my fucking phone, was amiss. 

"Fuck you, phone. Fuck you." 

So I rushed back toward the bathroom, hoping that the honesty I've discovered among the art students [as students, we have to leave our expensive art materials and works in progress unguarded in studios on a semester basis] at the college would prevail in the ladies' room stalls as well. 

This is pretty much what I was met with. 


People in unforms. Medics. Firemen. Security guards. 

My well cultured annoyance with airport security's overzealous, paranoid reactions to anything unattended that's not a fucking Sky Mall magazine lead me to one conclusion: 

"Is this a bomb threat? I mean, I just left my phone in there. It's not a bomb. It's small and purple. Can I please have it back? It's not a bomb..." 

And then I made THIS face: 

[LOL my professor just used the phrase 'make whoopie' in regards to why anyone would ever seek a clergy woman's hand in marriage. Whimsical sexual euphemisms seem to be a trend today in Art History]

I was met with a lot of muttering from the cops, security officers, paramedics, and fireman. 

Apparently, someone 'fell.' Upon piecing together rumors that I've collected all day, it seems that a student tripped on the stairs and hit her head. She then declared that she was fine... but passed out in the bathroom. She was being tended to, and was doing fine, by the time I'd arrived to get my phone, but the officers were (I guess) just trying not to crowd the paramedics in the tiny bathroom. I sincerely hope it was a one time incident, and that she doesn't suffer any more trauma from the ordeal... :(

Sure was a lot of drama for the Art HIstory building, though. 

And I *did* get my phone back, from the officer who'd first talked to me. 

Another post to arrive later on: 

"Why I need to either start getting vaccinations on a weekly basis or finally throw out an ancient pair of shorts."

-- Coco de Castalia

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