"Don't hold your breath."
- Professor Brec Cooke to all the women in his Education for Social Justice class who raised their hands after being queried as to who was holding out for a fairytale wedding.
Ah, NCOR. What better way to hone those indispensable do-it-yourself skills? This year's activist participants flooded Mary Graydon this past weekend, attending workshops with names like "Guerilla Poetry," "Mountain Justice," "Urban Gardening Training," "Improv and Anarchy," "Queers and Gentrification," "The Revolution Will Not Be Funded" and "Parenting for/as Radical Social Change." While we at The Scene fully support the aims and efforts of NCOR and social change activists everywhere, we were a little puzzled about a workshop taking place Sunday in the hallway outside our office, entitled "Women's DIY Health." Some things might be better off left up to the Establishment, ladies. __
Speaking of NCOR. Overheard on the way down to TDR last Saturday around noonish were multiple complaints regarding some kind of "odor" that the conference itself was emitting. After following a gaggle of fraternity dudes down the steps into the Terrace where Dining Occurs, one charming fellow whined, "It even smells down here!!" All right, guys. We all know that fraternity guys and hippies are diametrically opposed. But aimless whining and petty Lysol sprays reek of high school. Maybe you should have just given them all a swirly or wet willy. Sheesh. __
OK, here's the deal. No one will ever know why someone thought building half-floors serviced by the Butler elevator, sandwiched between the parking garage building and Mary Graydon, was a great idea. No one will ever actually be able to find the Butler Conference Room, not to mention the cloistered Kettler Palmer Lounge - other than tourists by accident on the way to the bookstore, that is. However, this does not make it OK for you to get on the elevator at floor 2 and get off on floor 2A, or any other arrangement that involves exiting the elevator at a place where you can look back and see, four feet above you, where you got on - while everyone else in the elevator watches. Thanks. __
Most deserving of attention is the AU Livejournal community. We may have already afforded this attention in previous Out of Contexts, but COME ON! In between random high school seniors making posts about what dorm they should live in next year (A: THEY ARE ALL THE SAME) or if AU has a Model United Nations (A: WE DON'T KNOW), there is some choice bantering between the cyberjerks and hapless students just looking to kill some time. Some of the best debates have been over whether or not the ladies of AU should wear Uggs and sweatpants together at the same time, or if Chicken Out tastes like vomit. The forum is one hundred times more useful than any tour and hilarious to boot. The post-NCOR banter, while we're on the subject, was mind-boggling. __
One sock in a parking garage. No, it's not a country-punk ballad - it's a different kind of nonsensical. One solitary sock, of the rather dirty Hanes tube variety, lay all by its lonesome on the third floor of the Mary Graydon Center parking garage. How did it get there? How did it get so dirty? Why hasn't anyone picked it up and used it as a fingerless glove, a tasteful codpiece or even sewn it into a charming monkey effigy?
-Compiled by the Scene staff
