The Union
There are over 50 buildings at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.Each one has a function and a form, many are distinct, some are almost toally hidden. Each one staffed by people and infested with students but of all the buildings on campus I've ever been to, my favorite by far is the City Union.It's an absolutly fascinating place where a person could wile away hours of his life just watching people and hanging out. Thanks to the miracle of wireless internet I can observe this phenomenon first hand and report to my faithful readers the many side of the union.The whir of the coffee machine can be heard everywhere in the square, it's almost like a caffinated soundtrack to a day of hustle, bustle and constant motion.Everywhere I look are people with a purpose, even if that purpose is to have no purpose.There's a group of about six black people to my left. I wish I could type up their conversation, but I can barely understand their ebonics so I'll describe them to you.Its like a tribe, a small pocket of dark in a sea of white. Crowded around a table, several with expensive laptops and clothes, apparently it costs a lot of money to look poor and oppressed.A girl sat down right across from me. She's okay looking, nothing great, but not ugly. I feel bad for her because I am observing her and she will never know and I wonder, how many people have observed me without my knowing.She looks sad and focused. Perhaps stressed is a better word for it. She's reading a book and judging by the university book store bag to her left, it was not a cheap one. She's wearing a green sweater and blue jeans with red Chuck Taylors. She has a broach on that looks like a bronze starfish in a circle."I just picked up my cap and gown."She met somebody she knew, apparently she is about to graduate. She wants to get out of here, are her words, I want to stay is her inflection. HEr friend won't shut up about herself and she tries to be nice.I am growing impatient about the lack of knowledge on my subject.
A patronizing smile creeps over her facs her friend drowns on and on about her boyfriend and her love of money.
Shes a journalism major who will try to work at a newspaper but shes in so much debt she needs to work. CRedit cards, the curse of our generation.
Back to her friend.
Yeah, uh huh, okay focus on me.
Her first car died a few month ago and at this point she should be buying a nice car, but instead is carless.
She's worked in Chicago at a newspaper and she hates working retail/selling things. When she was in Girl Scouts she was afraid to force people to buy cookies and gets to go to Mass. this summer for an internship? I thought she was graduating anyways...
"You can find jobs but will they pay the cost of living?" her friend asks.
I wonder if she suspects me. I wonder if she knows I'm here. Shes carrying on and has no idea shes being observed with quiet curiosity. She reveals the clues and I write them don for random people to read, the internet is scary
posted by Dan # 10:50 AM 3 comments
There are over 50 buildings at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln.Each one has a function and a form, many are distinct, some are almost toally hidden. Each one staffed by people and infested with students but of all the buildings on campus I've ever been to, my favorite by far is the City Union.It's an absolutly fascinating place where a person could wile away hours of his life just watching people and hanging out. Thanks to the miracle of wireless internet I can observe this phenomenon first hand and report to my faithful readers the many side of the union.The whir of the coffee machine can be heard everywhere in the square, it's almost like a caffinated soundtrack to a day of hustle, bustle and constant motion.Everywhere I look are people with a purpose, even if that purpose is to have no purpose.There's a group of about six black people to my left. I wish I could type up their conversation, but I can barely understand their ebonics so I'll describe them to you.Its like a tribe, a small pocket of dark in a sea of white. Crowded around a table, several with expensive laptops and clothes, apparently it costs a lot of money to look poor and oppressed.A girl sat down right across from me. She's okay looking, nothing great, but not ugly. I feel bad for her because I am observing her and she will never know and I wonder, how many people have observed me without my knowing.She looks sad and focused. Perhaps stressed is a better word for it. She's reading a book and judging by the university book store bag to her left, it was not a cheap one. She's wearing a green sweater and blue jeans with red Chuck Taylors. She has a broach on that looks like a bronze starfish in a circle."I just picked up my cap and gown."She met somebody she knew, apparently she is about to graduate. She wants to get out of here, are her words, I want to stay is her inflection. HEr friend won't shut up about herself and she tries to be nice.I am growing impatient about the lack of knowledge on my subject.
A patronizing smile creeps over her facs her friend drowns on and on about her boyfriend and her love of money.
Shes a journalism major who will try to work at a newspaper but shes in so much debt she needs to work. CRedit cards, the curse of our generation.
Back to her friend.
Yeah, uh huh, okay focus on me.
Her first car died a few month ago and at this point she should be buying a nice car, but instead is carless.
She's worked in Chicago at a newspaper and she hates working retail/selling things. When she was in Girl Scouts she was afraid to force people to buy cookies and gets to go to Mass. this summer for an internship? I thought she was graduating anyways...
"You can find jobs but will they pay the cost of living?" her friend asks.
I wonder if she suspects me. I wonder if she knows I'm here. Shes carrying on and has no idea shes being observed with quiet curiosity. She reveals the clues and I write them don for random people to read, the internet is scary
posted by Dan # 10:50 AM 3 comments
posted by Dan at
3:32 PM
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