Bir Bura

I need a beer. Does anyone want to go to Munich with me this weekend? Oktoberfest is over, but they still have the best beer in the world. And dorm life, aside from depriving your from beer really makes you crave a tall glass of frothing weissbeer in a beer garden behind the Cathedral. Ahh, memories. I need a beer.

Proximity

I have, Lucky Me, found a space in the close(er) freshman parking lot in which to station my poor car. I took all the bumper stickers off him yesterday. Unfortunately, it did not improve his temperament enough to convince him to allow the passenger door to be opened from the inside. I shall wait two days until I make the 15 minute walk to the parking lot, and then I shall escape to Mankato again! Mwah-ha-ha-ha. And this time, I shall remember to call the roommate and let her know I am avoiding her. Well, maybe I'll just tell her I won't be around... My travels now take me to the conjoined buildings, where I will study languages beneficial to me in voyages to other lands.

Ode to internet, outlets, and airport amenities.

Airport security is not an amenity. It’s an extra, frivolous waste of my tax dollars. Yes, I do pay taxes, probably a lot more that most of you do. *It may be my college fund, but its still taxable!* Among all the useless things I give money to the government such as public education, FasTracks, Congressional salaries, the TSA is the most imbecilic of all. I can’t believe that millions of dollars are spend yearly to pay some grouchy redhead to tell me to take my shoes off. They cleared security in Minneapolis; I don’t see why I should have to take them off in Denver, where the security waits are much much longer. Grouchily, I am informed that metal is not the dangerous item being searched for. Well, what if I keep plastic explosive in my shoes to help my corns? On a more serious note, the forced and humiliating de-shoeing of the air travelers is reminiscent of the communal gymnastics performed by Japanese industrial workers or the entrance of holocaust victims into the concentration camps. The extended wait did not suit me well either. I would almost rather face the dangers of airborne explosions, terrorist attacks, and the like, than have to deal with security system that cannot maintain three simultaneous running lanes and effectively process a small line of people at a busy airport on a Sunday night.

On the bright side, I am filled with glee to find an outlet that is located near my gate so that I may plug in my laptop, and, with the aid of my slacks and collared shirt, proceed to use my laptop in that official looking manner of a business traveler. I am even more overjoyed to see that the man who was formerly using this outlet has finally boarded his Vancouver-bound flight and vacated the only chair near the outlet in which I am now sitting.

I would sing the praises of a Wi-Fi network in the Denver International Airport, but alas, it seems to be faulty. The AT&T wireless server refuses to assign me an IP address. Fine, I will move closer to the Red Carpet Club and try to latch on to the T-Mobile signal that emanates from their fine facility! None of my money is going to AT&T. That’s your problem, suckers!

Alas and alack! There are no outlets located near the Red Carpet Club and its elusive internet access.

In the Discovery Store

I'm in my own little world!

And its closing in on me!