Lulling Philosophical Nonsense

I realize that I have made one of the biggest blogosphere faux pas of my seminal career: not writing for a stretch of one week within the first two weeks of launching off my blog.  It is well accepted among the innermost cubicle of elite bloggers that the infrequency of posts within the early stages of birthing a blog is one of the big blunders that one can commit in this intangibly ethereal space in which the blogo-universe exists.  At the beginning of any decent blog on “How to Blog” you will find the words ‘consistency’ and ‘quality’ or any word synonomically akin.  Know that I sacrificed consistency to uphold a seal of quality (particularly a Vermont seal of quality).  This reference to quality alludes to an experience I had yesterday in a Boulder Deli where the saran surrounding a Boar’s Head cheddar cheese was stamped with a “Vermont seal of quality.”  I strained myself to find any relationship between Boar’s Head and Vermont more tenuous than the curdled whey that flagellates to the surface.

So this is the seal.http://www.vermontagriculture.com/buylocal/images/AG.jpg  Know that anything of mine with this seal I stand behind and anything not bearing this seal, I do not endorse and moreover, protect my identity as a writer with a thick wax encasing that separates me from the cheese I cut from my inky ass.

I find my way through the Boulder Library.  A friend of mine, who majored in Psychology, did her thesis on the differences of spatial awareness between men and women.  Surprise, surprise she found that men were spatially superior.  Moreover, her findings included that video games played 1-8 hours each week could enhance this component of awareness.  Although it has been months since I have jostled the joystick of an N64 or aimlessly whacked the air with a Wei wand, with fairness to both the arguments of Nature and of Nurture, I probably rank a seven or eight on the scale of spatial awareness.  I digress so that you can understand how I so flawlessly located the single person study rooms that were already occupied, which ultimately lead me to an open area that my Boulderian friend erroneously described to me in her abstractly artistic and aesthetically airy way as “being in a tree house”. 

Rather, it is much like being on the second floor of a building and looking out of a window.  The fact that I look onto trees is hedonistically satisfying but in no way suggests any similarity to being propped up by three branches protruding from the same trunk, enjoying the open air whistling through the bowed two by four pines stacked non congruously on top of each other while remaining wary of nestling into any nails popping through.

It was in these corridors that I decided to rest my legs and wrest my brain for fabric fine enough for posting.  The content of my post will follow soon.