I had a problem today. Not one of those lady problems this time. No, I was sitting at the table at Burke dining hall with good sir Heath Michael Thompson and had the dissatisfaction of looking down and realizing I had three empty plates before me. Granted now, each plate had like one morsel on it. A corndog here, a orange there. I just don't like waiting in lines so I take my plate back immediately for post-haste consumption. But now it left me there in the middle of the room at the end of my dining experience with three plates. You might wonder what problem could possibly arise from such a menial occurrence. Well those plates have to make it to the dish return line. I now have to carry all three plates in a stack at one time.  I think its just my psychosis kicking in, but it makes me so self-concious to have to carry all those plates. I think people will look at me and think I am a genuine, self-gorging, pot-bellied fatass. Part of that may be because I may do the same thing to other people.

Perhaps I would have less paranoia if I stopped judging those around me and thus would be less inclined to feel as I am being judged myself. Just the other day, I was approaching Lakeside West when I saw this homely lookin' mothersucker boppin' up the sidewalk with a S&M-esque collar around his neck and lo' and behold there was a damn tail shooting out his backside. Now immediately I thought about slapping this young tike, and then just resorted to scoffing. At the peak of my most rampant of scoffing though, I looked down and realized, "Oh damn. I'm carrying a metallic silver man-purse around campus." Who looked like the dumbass then? I realized as much as that fellow was going to turn unbelieving heads for a good laugh, I probably get just the same. After all, un-normal things on campus at the Capstone do NOT go unnoticed. So maybe the next time I see a young co-ed toting a load of dishes, I should not make it my business to criticize them even if the bitch had every damn plate stacked with patty melts, cake, and blocks of cheese because for every person I'm looking at with a raised eyebrow, five more could be looking back at me.

Ehh, on second thought. Screw that. I'm gonna keep assessin' all you bitches. Just with the understanding that I know you're doing the same to me. All's fair in love and war. I'm not sure if that quote fits nor what it means really.

Over and Out,
CampusQueer