today, at work, there was a party to celebrate the ongoing status of accreditation my university/employer enjoys. this is kind of a lame idea for a party since the university's dental school's being accredited is pretty much a given. its kind of like having a party to celebrate the fact that you have internal organs. however i wasnt complaining when i walked into the ballroom and found myself staring at a table full of amstel light, mgd, and various wines of questionable provenance. i took an amstel and sat with some "friends" from the office. soon i was approached by the catering staffmember whom i had observed manning the punchbowl. he looked like a student, sort of cute, shaggy hair. he came over to me and spoke, thoughtlessly interrupting some boring story crystal was telling tangie about the bottle of Parrot Bay she keeps in her pickup truck at all times. "nice beltbuckle," he said. "what's it say?" i thrust my pelvis in the direction of his face. "The South Will Rise Again," i replied. he said that it was nice or something, and walked away. a few amstels later i decided to go see what was going on at the punch station. the kid was still there. he asked where i got the belt buckle, and i told him i'd gotten it from ebay. "you actually went in search of something like that?" he asked, sounding relatively incredulous. "i don't think i could wear something like that; its a little too polemic for me."
what? ever.
i explained that when worn in conjunction with a baseball cap reading "Insane Hussein: U CAN'T TOUCH THIS" the overall effect i was hoping to achieve was one of zesty irony, and that misconstruing the belt buckle was actually pretty uncommon, for ann arborites, anyway. he didnt seem to care.
i went back to the office where crystal was sitting at my desk, on the phone. "then you're sayin' you wasn't chokin' me? is that what i hear?" oh boy, i sighed. crystal's chatting up her babies' father at work again. will she ever learn?
i've been thinking about my own father a bit of late. i think this was prompted by the sudden, unexpected death of my best friend's father last week. she drove up from chicago and i took the week off of work to stay with the family, who, in many regards, i know better than my own. my father constantly talks about his upcoming death and bemoans how his health is flagging. i get really tired of it and don't even pay attention when he gets this way. i suppose if he actually did bite it i'd resent myself, but most of me just wishes he would shut the fuck up. nothings worse than parents who complain all the time. except for maybe dead parents.
shit.