I haven't clogged a toilet in several months. That's quite an achievement for me. Sadly, today was just not my day. So I went to WalMart on my lunch break to go buy a plunger because I didn't have one in my apartment. Of course the bathroom cleaning supplies are in the very back corner of this monolithic grocery store, and as soon as I picked it up I suddenly became painfully self-conscious of my image - a kid who went all the way to WalMart, all the way to the back corner, to buy nothing but a plunger. Not a plunger and, oh yeah, some peanut butter while I'm at it; not a plunger and, oh yeah, some deodorant or some blank CDs. Nope. Just a plunger. I may as well have worn a T-shirt that said,
YEP, IT WAS A BIG ONE
So I did my little walk of shame to the counter, and to my amazement the cashier didn't make any remarks or even smirk. Kudos to you, Madam Cashier. I know I certainly would have succumbed to the temptation had I been in her position.
Later on I went to the mail room at school to buy some postage, and, for the first time in probably several months, I paid with exact change. It was the most amazing feeling ever. I didn't use a credit card or a $20 that would have yielded me a wallet full of one-dollar bills and half a pound of pocket change; heck no I didn't. I used exact change, and I was so proud of myself. To the wind with credit cards! They can't give you that kind of satisfaction.
When I was a freshman here, I took a class called Old Testament History and Literature. The lecturer, who shall remain nameless and whom I will henceforth call Dr. X, would often ask questions of our class during his lectures and would not move on until at least one person responded; usually nobody would respond and he would simply call on somebody. Most people were wrong about, well, most things, but he was nice enough to at least make an effort to tie their bogus answers into the real answer, or, at the very least, make it seem not as completely retarded as it actually was. The one time he called on me, however, I allowed me no such mercy. I don't remember what the question was, nor what my answer was, but do clearly recall thinking in my mind as I said it, "What a load of crap I'm spewing right now. Oh well." When I finished speaking, I sat there quite sheepishly, but instead of trying to make me feel better, he looked at me for a few seconds and said, "...mmm... no." And he moved on. Needless to say, I felt pretty stupid.
Two years later, Dr. X now teaches my Biblical Ethics class. (By the way, I'm just now starting to get over the embarrassment of that harrowing incident from Old Testament class.) Today we discussed the idea that some of the Bible was historically conditioned; that is, the teachings in a most literal sense simply do not apply the same way to us as they did to their original audience long ago. Dr. X asked us if we thought ANY part of the Bible was NOT historically conditioned. Apparently I didn't learn my lesson the first time because I'm a big fat stupidface, so I piped up and said, "One could make the case that the Ten Commandments have withstood the wear and tear of the passage of time. They seem to me as relevant today as they did then." Without missing a BEAT Dr. X shot back, "Hm. Well, Brian, do you still keep Sabbath, then?" I sat there for a few seconds in silence while the rest of the class started snickering, and finally I threw my hands up and said, "... touché." I don't know how many shades of red I must have turned, but Dr. X certainly did not make things better for me by referring to my comment several times in during the remaining class time. To his credit, he was very respectful about it, but it really didn't take the sting away of being shot down so fast. Remind me next time not to spar with a theologian.
YEP, IT WAS A BIG ONE
So I did my little walk of shame to the counter, and to my amazement the cashier didn't make any remarks or even smirk. Kudos to you, Madam Cashier. I know I certainly would have succumbed to the temptation had I been in her position.
Later on I went to the mail room at school to buy some postage, and, for the first time in probably several months, I paid with exact change. It was the most amazing feeling ever. I didn't use a credit card or a $20 that would have yielded me a wallet full of one-dollar bills and half a pound of pocket change; heck no I didn't. I used exact change, and I was so proud of myself. To the wind with credit cards! They can't give you that kind of satisfaction.
When I was a freshman here, I took a class called Old Testament History and Literature. The lecturer, who shall remain nameless and whom I will henceforth call Dr. X, would often ask questions of our class during his lectures and would not move on until at least one person responded; usually nobody would respond and he would simply call on somebody. Most people were wrong about, well, most things, but he was nice enough to at least make an effort to tie their bogus answers into the real answer, or, at the very least, make it seem not as completely retarded as it actually was. The one time he called on me, however, I allowed me no such mercy. I don't remember what the question was, nor what my answer was, but do clearly recall thinking in my mind as I said it, "What a load of crap I'm spewing right now. Oh well." When I finished speaking, I sat there quite sheepishly, but instead of trying to make me feel better, he looked at me for a few seconds and said, "...mmm... no." And he moved on. Needless to say, I felt pretty stupid.
Two years later, Dr. X now teaches my Biblical Ethics class. (By the way, I'm just now starting to get over the embarrassment of that harrowing incident from Old Testament class.) Today we discussed the idea that some of the Bible was historically conditioned; that is, the teachings in a most literal sense simply do not apply the same way to us as they did to their original audience long ago. Dr. X asked us if we thought ANY part of the Bible was NOT historically conditioned. Apparently I didn't learn my lesson the first time because I'm a big fat stupidface, so I piped up and said, "One could make the case that the Ten Commandments have withstood the wear and tear of the passage of time. They seem to me as relevant today as they did then." Without missing a BEAT Dr. X shot back, "Hm. Well, Brian, do you still keep Sabbath, then?" I sat there for a few seconds in silence while the rest of the class started snickering, and finally I threw my hands up and said, "... touché." I don't know how many shades of red I must have turned, but Dr. X certainly did not make things better for me by referring to my comment several times in during the remaining class time. To his credit, he was very respectful about it, but it really didn't take the sting away of being shot down so fast. Remind me next time not to spar with a theologian.
