March Madness

No, not the basketball kind. Besides, UNC didn't make the tournament, so I am boycotting it. I am loyal even when my team sucks.

No, I am talking about the madness, or at least weirdness in The Building.

Lately, it has taken the form of shoes and smells.

The shoes I sort of get. It has been a long winter of having to wear heavy shoes so you can brave the snow. And sneakers I get in the morning and evening if you walk to and from work. But I am beginning to think we need to reissue Secretary Powell's infamous cable about dress codes. You remember that one? He reminded people that wearing sparkly tank tops, shorts and flip flops to work was not appropriate. Yes, I am serious.

I was in A-100 at the time, and couldn't imagine that anyone would really do that. But I have been noticing shoes lately. Lots of flip flops. Some of them sparkly, though to be fair, Secretary Powell didn't specifically mention sparkly flip flops. Just sparkly tank tops.

Yesterday, I saw a woman in a suit wearing SLIPPERS. The light brown suede kind with blue, red and green embroidery on them. And she had the heel mashed down so she could just shove her feet in them like clogs. But that doesn't make them clogs, not that clogs are appropriate either (and for the record, neither are crocs). With her black suit, they really stood out. And not in a good way.

And the smells. What is up with that? Now that I am taking early morning Russian, I am regularly walking down the most odd smelling cooridor in the building. There is one section that always smells like mollasses, and just beyond it, a part that smelled of smoked sausage. Further from there, a section that smelled of either urine or burned popcorn. Not sure which. And this is a regular occurrance at 8:45 am.

And then of course there was the very loud, musical fart that came from behind a closed door yesterday.

Luckily I walked fast enough to miss THAT smell!