January 21, 2012

Birds of a Feather.

Today I woke up to a lovely, yet insufficient-to-cancel-my-class dusting of snow. When I arrived, we were given a basic run through of what the class would entail. The instructor seems very nice and I believe we'll have a good semester. Since it's a social psychology class, we'll be doing a fair amount of social activities within the class and as projects. The first of them was an ice-breaker which involved these loud rubber chickens that squawk. The object of the game was to learn each others names through repeatedly tossing these chickens both forward and backwards around the circle, proving the name "flipping the bird" rather appropriate (the alternate name is "Choking the chicken", of course). It wasn't a terribly useful game, but I did learn one thing: I can not throw. I hit one of my classmates in the head four times. Whoops.

Yes, this was the highlight of my day. No, I'm not proud.

On another avian-related note: If people who are in in love are called "Love Birds", shouldn't couples who fight be called "Angry Birds?" Bahaha.

No, I'm not particularly proud of that either.

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