The Levity of Pieplates

Spring is here on campus, and that means one thing:  Frisbees are now everywhere.  I enjoy this, except my throwing ability is equivalent to a second grader's.  So I have been spending quality time out there, getting a tan in awkward places and throwing a frisbee with lots of heart.  

Except it's hard.  Everyone else here has held a disc from birth.  I, from unfortunate Poor Suburban High School X, have not had the opportunity to "ultimate."  I do not "disc."  I cannot bounce a circular bit of plastic off the ground or make "sick" catches.  I merely flick my wrist and hope for the best.  

I find it ironic that an activity that has been the stereotype for the relaxed college afternoon has been made so intense here.  One is embarrassed, nay, ostracized if one doesn't have a good forehand in the company of some. 

 Go on and continue to "disc," you, sir, in your ray-bans and boat shoes, polo shirt and khakis, baseball cap nonchalantly backwards.  My weak and uncoordinated self will continue to pray that my frisbee will go and be free one day, and fly. 

Potting Soil Gets Everywhere

I have attempted to foster life in an otherwise barren environment:  where, you ask?  The windowsill of my dorm room, a 2.5 foot stretch of white wood with questionable stains and dust.  Beans, peas, and climbing hyacinth, and also a little lavender plant.  As these grow, I will attempt to grow this blog, musing on life, the universe, and everything.  I just hope I don't over-water.  

After all, the sun is out, the sky is blue, and spring is here, and that means it's time for a new beginning.