14 January 2010
The Great Clothespin Experiment
9:14 AM | Signed
Kelsea D |
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I'm in a Creative Nonfiction class. I know, it sounds like a bore, right? That would be incorrect. It's great fun. Where else can you air real life issues and be accepted?
Our homework for this week? Take this clothespin everywhere you go for the next week.
Obviously, there was some confusion in the class. It wouldn't be community college if someone didn't ask, "Do we have to shower with it?!" (At this point I went out into the hall and blew my brains out.) Mr. M offered no further explanation: Just take it with you.
I clipped my clothespin onto the lapel of my jacket, a rather lofty position for a clothespin, and smiled at the clothespin. I wasn't going to over think this. Just take it with me. Everywhere.
Yesterday, 13 January 2010, I took my clothespin:
Our homework for this week? Take this clothespin everywhere you go for the next week.
Obviously, there was some confusion in the class. It wouldn't be community college if someone didn't ask, "Do we have to shower with it?!" (At this point I went out into the hall and blew my brains out.) Mr. M offered no further explanation: Just take it with you.
I clipped my clothespin onto the lapel of my jacket, a rather lofty position for a clothespin, and smiled at the clothespin. I wasn't going to over think this. Just take it with me. Everywhere.
Yesterday, 13 January 2010, I took my clothespin:
- To the Bistro, to get a hot tea. The clothespin and I are watching our health.
- Through the freezing rain, to sociology, where the clothespin learned about social deviance.
- Back through the slightly less freezing rain, to where the wild things are, or rather, to the Weese building where Maegan and David were supposed to be waiting. We instead waited for them.
- To the cafeteria with Maegan. Kylie brought me lunch from home--I neglected to share with the clothespin. Maegan and I discussed flea markets. I wondered how much I could sell my clothespin for.
- To the ceramics building. We cut through the industrial buildings, and consequently, had to avoid a lake. The clothespin reminded me not to take the shortcut after it had been raining. We sat down to throw, and I couldn't find my groove. I made a wonky-vase. Inspired if I say so myself. More to come on that later.
- To my first rehearsal for Antigone. We learned about Oedipus/Mommy love, what the word "marshaled" meant, and all about our nauseatingly pretentious co-actors. The clothespin and I agree: We hate them. I have very few lines to memorize. I never want to see the clothespin again.
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