I've been the consummate lap dog of academia for a good three and a half years running. In that time I've jumped through fiery hoops of death while criss-crossing in front of bladed-pendulums, buzzsaws, flying poodles, a volley of cannon-fire from the 1812 overture and the occasional singing fat woman dive-bombing me. The idea of staying up three days straight, while mildly hallucinating about Bea Arthur being fed to neon-colored fish swimming inside and around my monitor, brings on fond nostalgia and a need for more mountain dew; I've done (and oh God seen) it all before.

So now there's this conference I need to present at come Friday. There are several things about this that piss me off:

1) I have to wear "very formal attire." I don't have "very formal attire." A tie, in my opinion, is a cheap sex prop used by femme-fatale softcore actresses and businessmen, who are by and large whores after a different fashion.

(Note: I wanted to change this due to a complaint...but seeing as how it got 'quoted,' I'm giving in to mass-media appeal. Maybe I should be playing with the tie)

I'm a student. These are professors. We're supposed to be critical of what things are actually like, not what they appear to be. I want them to be interested in my mind, not my body (where have I heard that one before?).

Solution: send for sport coat, a tie, my aged dress shoes, and my codpiece. They want to judge by the surface, I'll give them a whole hell of alot of surface to think about.

2) I have to wake up at 5 in the morning.

Solution: I don't sleep. The car ride is 7 hours. I use someone I know as a pillow. Problem solved. This calls for even more mountain dew.

3) I don't come back 'til sunday night.

Solution: Take work, do work, abuse my "all expenses paid" perk by demonically torturing room service with intricate orders every consecutive hour. I'll explain it as my "adjustment period" to the new surroundings.

Besides that, it's the usual bump and grind. This week there are less flying poodles, more cannon-fire.

Funny thing: I like it. If my body were this flexible, I'd be in porno movies. Cest la vie.

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