Klutzmael

I love the frozen tun­dra that is the cam­pus of the Uni­ver­si­ty of Notre Dame. Why did Cro-Magnon have to fol­low the game north? Couldn’t we have just been hap­py as fru­gi­vores? I am a trop­i­cal pri­mate dammit! I need 70 degrees and 80% humid­i­ty. If I lived in Fiji I could run around naked and be per­fect­ly com­fort­able (except for maybe the skeeters). But NO! I am forced to wear an abun­dance of ani­mal fur and plant fibers and syn­thet­ic man­made fibers in order to main­tain the prop­er trop­i­cal atmos­phere around my skin. This morn­ing I dis­cov­ered a bump on my head that I must have obtained last night whilst wrestling after the Super­bowl. Call me Klutz­mael. Goto bluishorange.com. This lady is refresh­ment. Empathize with her. I need to work on my envy prob­lem. I need a Muse. If i stop wor­ry­ing about my prob­lems they cease to become prob­lems right? I learned the basic steps of Sal­sa today and in the process just rein­forced my knowl­edge that I have rhythm like a fat man’s heart­beat.