Well here we go, I've been called out and now I have to stick up a new post. I've had a great day, with many stories to tell, but there's a catch. I also have to study anthropology at the same time. So you all are in for a treat... a very confusing, cultural treat.
Let the stories and merriment begin!
This weekend was parents weekend at UVM, which means that freshman's parents roll down to check out the campus, block traffic, fill parking lots, bother their kids, and annoy the ever loving shit out of me. You see while parents weekend is a time of happiness and joy for some it means something different to me. The sad truth of the matter is my parents don't care for me anymore. They have banished me into an icy prison of isolation, horrible food, and hippies (Social Death: The end of social relations with someone when they break certain social rules). But I don't blame them, over exposure to awesome has been known to cause blindness, an inferiority complex, and decreased sperm count. And it is only fair that I be someone else's burden for now. But the worst part of parents weekend is that there is no one to hang out with. The conversations go something like this:
Me: Hey man, what's going on!
Them: Not much
Me: You want to hang out?
Them: Yea! But my parents are over here right now, that cool with you?
Me: Yeah! And while we're at it we can go hang out with the salvation army! And knit woolen mittens for the poor!
I'm paraphrasing of course. Gender Stratification: The division of a society into unequal groups based on gender. But even that was bearable. The straw on the camels back was walking back to my dorm after english class. To pain you a picture I'm grumpy and tired from discussing an old man who fell asleep under a tree (Rip van Winkle was much more exciting as a 5 year old when it was a pop-up book). And on my way home I make a discovery, any poor chump in sweats with a backpack is labeled a tour guide for the weekend. It took me 15 minutes and 7 families to get back to my dorm, still pissed at Mr. Ripp van Winkle for ever having his story written. Incest Taboo: Anyone in West Virginia marrying anyone else in West Virginia. A simple investment in a campus map, and some brains, was all these people needed to get around the school successfully, but instead I was burdened. I now know why people hate tourists.
Well there you go Dale, my ranting is done. I hope it was satisfying. But before I leave I'd like to leave you all with one though:
Ethnography: The description and account of an anthropologists experiences while immersed in a foreign culture.
Beierle out.
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