Purgatory and Marriage

Contrary to popular belief, the two are not related in any way. Now that we have that cleared up, Booty and I went to get our marriage license today. We went after I got off work at 3:30, which was wonderful because the traffic in S-M- during that time of day is reminiscent rather of that place at the center of which Lucifer stands entrapped in ice than of the hopeful mountain of journey (Read Dante, what do they teach them at these schools?). Anyway, we go to the county clerk's office, which on the outside almost looks like a nice lawyer's or architect's office, but which on the inside looks something like the DMV but smaller. As we waited to be called up to the desk we began comparing the place to purgatory and decided that Purgatory is like being forever stuck at the DMV where no one can find the correct paperwork you need, and the whole place smells moderately of urine, and the whole time you're waiting for the right paperwork you're trying to clean up the urine smell. Just thought I'd share that little philosophical gem.

Frollicking Corpulence

So I'm walking down the hallway and Bootyis following me, and I think I hear her start running. She will sometimes run and hug attack me, so I think that's what she's doing, so I run to the end of the hall and into the kitchen. Also note that, despite her best efforts to overcome it, Booty is genetically predetermined to have only limited control over her physical movements and limited awareness of her body's relationship to the rest of the world. (e.g. If she runs and hug attacks you, she generally overshoots, causing you and she to slam into a wall or fall down. This will explain why I ran away from a hug from a beautiful woman. I don't want to smack into the walls or floor) Turns out she wasn't running, nor was she attacking or hugging anything, so to her it looked like I suddenly freaked and went nuts. The following conversation occurs:

Me: I thought you were running to attack me, so I moved out of the way. Uncontrolled mass moving in my direction is scary.

Booty: Oh. (pause) It's like when fat people skip!

Fiber Optic Cactus will be performing their new hit timpani solo, "When Fat People Skip" at Humfrey's on Friday night.

Cracked

Booty: So you know how you have a crack in your butt?

Back by Popular Demand

Being that I have begun receiving hate mail from my one blogfan (is this a word? if not, I claim rights to it) because I have only posted twice in the... I guess it's now two weeks since I started this blog, and because a blog with only two posts is a waste of webspace, I present, for your enjoyment, this one-sentence post.

Biola in Retrospect

I'm sitting here in the library at Biola after my last class of my last semester, and it makes me think. So much has happened since I first set foot on this campus. I remember my first day, wandering aimlessly to the Sutherland steps for Torrey orientation, and being given my room assignment. I remember how confused and lost I felt for the first few weeks. I didn't know anyone, and everything was so new and different. I remember how alone I felt at first. I remember all the difficult days and nights of reading, reading, reading, and then writing, writing, writing. I remember the bad food, the hard, lumpy beds, and the asylum-like cell block that is Sigma Chi.

But I wouldn't trade that experience for the world. In the last 3 years I have learned to force myself to keep on going no matter what, and to engage those around me with a mixture of logic, knowledge, intelligence and love. I have learned to admit that I'm wrong and be ok with it. I have made friendships here that are worth more to me than all the tuition and the learning. When I started here I had no idea what it would do to my relationship with my high-school sweetheart, and I am leaving here to become her husband and the head of a new family.

In these three short years my life was changed forever, but I have been constantly encouraged not to turn my back on the life I knew before. I am going home now, but not as I was when I left, and the home to which I go is not that which I left. I feel no sorrow at this parting, only fond memories and gratitude for the part which this place, these people, and these experiences have played in forming who I am. Goodbye Biola, may God bless you as he has always done, that you may in turn bless those who have entrusted their minds and souls to your care.

Crazy?

Booty: The Kooks are coming!! Wait...