The term “barbarian” is bandied about a lot these days. Of course, everyone knows it comes from the Greek term “bararoi”, which originally referred to a species of talking pumpkin. Only gradually and through the sedimentation of linguistic geology did the term come to embrace its modern idiom; that is, anybody who, coming across in a thrift store the Collected Works of Geoffrey Chaucer on the one hand, and, on the other, a questionably pasty stack of Busty magazines, picks up the latter, in a full, though erroneous, confidence that he has made the dirtier choice. Real culture knows the juicy bits.

It was quite a wedding, Aunt Tilley being fifty-three and as independent as a horned owl although that’s the wrong bird for this story because the whole day revolved around guinea hens, especially Maud, about whom later. They couldn’t find a church that would accept the guinea hens—there were six of them—as part of the ceremony, even when Tilley explained that each bird would be wrapped in bridal lace to protect the carpeting. Yes, they said, but what if one gets away and flies up into the croft and sets there, surely some poop will fall and all that. So they used the old bandstand next to the skate park beside the Y and that was fine, with the wedding party up in the middle and the guinea hens being carried by the bridesmaids and the Unitarian minister losing his place every time a hen let out a squawk.

In response to RedShirt69, I’m a hot girl and I love nerds.

You say you’re into video games, I say, “Wow, I totally love them too!” If you’re into fantasy novels, that just shows we have a magical spark. Who doesn’t like role playing games?

I’m the ideal girlfriend for a nerd. I always watch SyFy original movies! Well, as long as I’m not busy that night. And there’s nothing better on TV. And I’ve had two or three glasses of wine.

Day 1

Started my new job today here at the university, thought I’d keep a journal. Staffing a help desk in the library copy center. Real boring. Read a piece of paper from the recycle bin that caught my eye called “Why Fascism is the Wave of the Future.” Listened to a guy talk to his phone for an hour in a different language while scanning things. He left without saying anything to me. Did not need help with the copiers, I guess.

Must figure out things to do. I wish there was a window.

Today’s televised political debates are a difficult medium for the candidates, since each must craft a memorable sound bite of his or her position in thirty seconds for an audience that would rather be watching Dancing with the Stars or Chopped. But were things better on town squares and fairgrounds in Illinois in 1858 when the candidates spoke uninterrupted for two hours on a rickety wooden platform in each of seven open-air encounters? Here’s the truth about those highly touted Lincoln-Douglas debates.