There's Snow Place Like Home

If you were in Portland last night, you would know that we had the sneaker wave of a snow storm hit us. We were running our route midfield, the quarterback was looking for us, we caught the ball, but just didn't see the defender. Needless to say we spent the night on our back at the mercy of this little snow storm.

I-5 saw the worst traffic jam in the last 30 years of Portland.

I was in it. (Honor). And while I was in the middle of my three hour standstill on I-5 last night, I saw an interesting portrait of humanity.

A woman, no older than 30, got out of her car and walked to the middle barrier of the freeway. It was here that she began to squat, and in turn, urinate next to the barrier between Southbound and Northbound traffic. Humans, in the end, are horrifically simple animals.

I Thought He'd Have Bigger Biceps...

Conversation Written Between Two People On One Desk

This was found in the Portland State University Library, on a desk I was working on:

HE: "In God we trust,"WHY?
SHE: Why not?
HE: Because he ain't real
SHE: Have you ever tried?

FEEL BETTER

I feel like we're all in a bad mood today. Well, that is, all of us who are doing the right thing during this economic downturn, which is GOING TO SCHOOL.

We're all in finals. I've talked to a lot of people today between my roommate, people at coffee shops, and people at school and I can tell you this: We're grumpy. Grump city. Bunch of Forest Grumps. Grumps like a truck. Grump, Grump is Up. Taking big Grumps.

I thought I should post this to make you all feel better, relax, and get excited about BABIES!!!!!!

This is therapeutic for me too, guys. I need a break from writing about 18th century urbanization in America and it's effects on AHHHH SHUT UP!!

Be calm. Loose the grumps. For now.

I'm Upset That You'll Be Missing Nothing

I had already planned on being late to my twelve o'clock class. I guess I should give you a reason, but I could also just say that the class is called, "Women's History: The Woman of American (1600-1900)." I rarely pay attention in this class, and I successfully passed my mid-term with flying colors by just Googling the terms on the study guide. I'm horrifically bored through most of it, and my "Ph.D" teacher has the vocabulary of my refrigerator.

Beyond the advantage of being able to miss class and still pass, my professor does not know anyone's names and needs to hear it at least 11 times to actually get it. I'm pretty sure she knows one girl's name. She says she has a problem with her memory because she "had kids" and "they sucked [her] brains right out." (Her words, not mine). So if she doesn't know my name to my face, then as long as I write well and ace the tests...well, things will be a-okay for Mr. Nye.

Today was the last class of the term and I knew that I had to be there to get that study guide. It was my life. As long as I obtained the study guide, this class would be passed, no problem. As I approached the building, I began to think that maybe I should just skip most of it, and try to just walk in at the break.

So I sat outside the classroom and read some newspapers, exchanged some emails, and put some finishing touches on a paper I was handing in soon, when women began spilling out of the room.

This is my chance.

Go in, get the study guide, AND GET THE FRACK OUT.

I cut through the sea of women to the class which was no consisting of people standing to stretch. You know, that stretch where you basically make your body a standing star, yawning greatly, and looking tremendously unattractive? There were some students asking the professor some questions, so I stood around looking for the study guide.

"She hasn't handed it out yet," my friend told me.

I have to ask her. This may be harder than I thought. Should I stay and just hang in here for the last half of the class for this study guide? I can't stand another minute. I'm going to ask.

"Hi," I said.

Blank stare.

"Ok, well I was hoping to get the study guide, I kind of have to go..."

Blank stare.

"...wondering if you had that uh...study guide..."

"I do?" she questioned.

I made a face.

"I do!" she said excitedly. She sort of trotted over to get it. "And I will give you the study guide, that's what I'll do," she said again. I swear this woman is SO WEIRD. As she hands me the study guide she says regally, "The study guide. To you." She nods.

"Thank y-"

She busts in with, "Well then, good, I'm sorry you have to go," and she starts to sound sort of stern and angry. "I guess you'll just have to miss...you'll be missing..."

And she trails off and just looks at me with empty eyes for what seems like an eternity.

I'm about to fill in the gap with a cough when she says, "Other things. You'll be missing other things that we do."

"Oh, what a tragedy," I say quickly.

I think she was saying something to me as I walked out, but I couldn't tell you what.

Rearguard Pushed to Double Issue in January

So after much deliberation, the paper decided that a December issue would be POINTLESS. And it would be. The plan was to put out this month's issue this week, perhaps around today. But then the staff thought, hmmm, everyone is in final's mode and after that everyone leaves. So why do we work so hard to release a paper that many people will not read one word of? If the paper comes out this week, it will be neglected and the PSU community will come back in January to an old Rearguard sitting there like a wet towel in the corner of the bathroom. Nobody likes you, wet towel, you make the room tense.

OR

We wait and push a double issue complete with a "Year in Review" insert and have it hit the stands right when everyone's back in school and doing absolutely nothing but shoving syllabi after syllabi in their messenger bag (no backpacks in Portland) when, OH LOOK REARGUARD. YAY! I'll read that! Then they fall in love with our paper and our writing and massive amounts of attention and cash come flooding into the basement of the Smith Building, where our office sits.

What do we choose?

I think you can guess. Look for January. Focus on school and buying useless things for people you don't care to much for (Christmas).