I don’t mean that metaphorically. I mean, when you walk in the gates and up the path toward the Art Building, it reeks of putrefaction. Julian, my TA, says that it’s just the melting snow and the grass interacting to give off some kind of nasty gas. He says Parc LaFontaine smells the same way.
I can’t say I’m too too upset. I mean, it would be better if it didn’t smell but since the snow’s melting, I shouldn’t complain.
Today, while we waited for our very lo-fi permanent residency photos to be developed, Carrie bought me a new ring. It should arrive in a couple weeks (of course they don’t have my size in stock). It’s actually a nice ring; shiny, gold and everything. But I figured I might as well since I’ll wear the thing every day (and not remove it in airplane bathrooms). I mean, I spent that kind of money on frames for my glasses, so what’s the point in resisting?
But wouldn\’t it be ironic if you DID remove it in an airplane bathroom after all?