Elephants in the Sun
I was working at the library the other night, getting books down from the shelves so they could be sent to the other colleges, and I happened to glance down at my hands. The right one had blood all over it, so I freaked and ran into the bathroom. I had donated blood earlier that day, so I had this paranoid moment where I thought maybe blood had come spurting of my arm where they had drawn from earlier. But, no dice, wasn't bleeding anywhere, unless it came shooting out of my nose without managing to touch the sides of my nostrils. So I went back to my book cart, and discovered that it was all over the frickin handle. I went upstairs to the circulation desk and was all, "Did any die, or cut themselves, or something?" No one had died. That they knew of. So when I left three hours later I still hadn't figured out whose blood it was. Maybe it was dripping from the cieling...
In other news, there are some stupid ass mo-fo's at this school. I'm sitting in my Astronomy class, and the prof is trying to come up with an analogy for how much mass the Sun loses every second due to nuclear fusion. She presses the space bar on her computer (this is a power point presentation she's using) and suddenly there appear some elephants on the screen underneath all of her bullet points.
"The Sun loses about 100 billion elephants worth of mass every second", she says. Some of us giggled, but then I turned and noticed this particular girl sitting there, head tilted to the side, eyes squinting and a slack-jawed expression. The professor noticed her too, and after a few moments of awkward silence says, "There are no elephants in the Sun."
I couldn't decide whether I felt more like throwing my tea mug at the girl's face or laughing.
In other news, there are some stupid ass mo-fo's at this school. I'm sitting in my Astronomy class, and the prof is trying to come up with an analogy for how much mass the Sun loses every second due to nuclear fusion. She presses the space bar on her computer (this is a power point presentation she's using) and suddenly there appear some elephants on the screen underneath all of her bullet points.
"The Sun loses about 100 billion elephants worth of mass every second", she says. Some of us giggled, but then I turned and noticed this particular girl sitting there, head tilted to the side, eyes squinting and a slack-jawed expression. The professor noticed her too, and after a few moments of awkward silence says, "There are no elephants in the Sun."
I couldn't decide whether I felt more like throwing my tea mug at the girl's face or laughing.