Last night, Paula and I were doing our Latin in Herter Hall. By “doing our Latin”, I mean we were chatting with our Latin books open. She was telling me the flowers she’s picked for her wedding (orange roses, which is actually a very Paula-esque mix of classical and modern) and I told her my favorite proposal scenario. It’s the one when my handsome boyfriend takes my to Egypt and we climb the pyramid at sunset. He opens a tiny jewelry box and shows me a gorgeous sapphire, and then starts to ask me the question…
That’s how it ends, of course, because then an Egyptian guard comes up and screams at us in Arabic for climbing the pyramids. Kristin says that I have a disturbed psyche.
Then we saw a giant cockroach. Paula and me, I mean, in Herter, not my boyfriend and me on the pyramids. (I wonder if there even are cockroachs in Egypt? Maybe Bird, Basket, Folded Cloth, Arrow means “Call the exterminator tomorrow” in heiroglyphics) There was no shrieking or screaming, we just stared in horror. Then we tucked our feet up on our chairs and went back to the task at hand.
“I want a heart-shaped diamond,” Paula said. “Some people might think that’s cheesy, but I think it’s perfect.”