Tag Archives: women

Dear Atlas

 Dear Atlas,

I thought knew how much I loved you.

I thought I knew the way you made me feel but the distance between us has taught me that I knew nothing.

That I know nothing. Continue reading →

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road

It was the last day of class. Finally I would be free from the toils of the mountains of essays and the relentless onslaught of writing page after page of dull, lifeless prose that sucked out my soul and left dark rings under my eyes. No longer would I have to sit in the classroom that smelled of wet cardboard and stale kitty litter and listen to Professor Hammond’s twin prattle on about Iambic Pentameter while making a makeshift beat on his podium, losing it about five seconds in and restarting the lesson from the top.

On a side note here, it honestly scared me how much he looks like my professor. Down to the hat and cane.

I was positive that I had begun to develop a brain tumor out of stress, not due to difficulty, but out of frustration that he insisted on using the space bar when the tab key would indent the correct amount already. I was mentally exhausted from holding back audible screams of rage when ever he would look into my eyes and proceed to center his words using his fast little clicks.

Tiptiptiptiptiptiptiptip “Oh darn, too far” Tack Tack Tack Tack Tiptiptiptiptip Continue reading →

T.Hanks and the Tab Key

“Does anyone not know how to log on to a computer?”

I lean back in my desk and feel the glaze on my eyes further solidify as I join the rest of the class in silence. The curve of the chair bites into my tail bone but at least I feel something again. I check the time on my phone from the pocket of my dress. We’re entering hour two of our three-hour tour. I was forming a theory that this was a psychological experiment of some sort over how long it will take for millennial’s to go all Planet of the Apes on an old man.

“Okay, so you start with your name, usually it has this format with a name box and password box.”

Lord have mercy he’s doing it again. I could not count the times that I had seen this exact presentation. It was a good fifteen minutes about the importance typing with the correct fingers.

“Now, some people do, I think it’s chicken beak type style, like this”, he held up his stubby little hands, “Notice my pointer finger is up, like this, and the rest of my fingers are curled under like a fist without the raised finger. Now watch.” Continue reading →

Red Dawn

It started like any other regular day on campus. I was obnoxiously early, the parking was ridiculous, and the packs of feral cats were in full swing. The golden light of day heated the drainage tunnels where they resided just enough to give the whole campus that lonely old cat-woman smell. It was a pungent mix of cat urine and indifference that stung the interior of your nostrils and made you wonder if the smell lingered on your clothing. It was like a bouquet of Pepe le Pew from that time he went to Bonnaroo.

On any other day, I would have been content to enjoy the solitude and silence of the sanctum that was an empty classroom, but on this particular day I decided to enjoy the finer things that this humble college had to offer and enjoy a nice visit to the library. Previously, the library had been like stepping back into time. It used to have the entire original everything from its Mad Men era origins plus free wifi. You almost expected Don Draper to walk out and put a cigarette out on a book in the Women’s Studies section and were almost surprised when he didn’t. It was amazing how intact and preserved it was. Everything was in pristine condition in the same state in which they were first rolled into the room. It was immaculate and one of the main attractions to taking classes on campus. Continue reading →