Sunday, September 12, 2004

Remote thoughts

It was spring or early fall, and the lot of us spilled onto McKeldin Mall, laughing and teasing. We were on the way to Plato's Diner for dinner, perhaps -- I know longer remember. There was a giggle and a charge, and then a weight on my back and shoulders. With no particular thought, I dropped my center of gravity, turning forward and aside just so -- and the weight was deposited in front of me on the grass.

I remember the smell of the grass. I remember she looked up at me from under a tumble of red hair. I don't think I've ever been so humiliated, she said. Have you ever tried to read an ambiguous expression on a face turned upside down? I'm not sure whether she was serious; but a moment later, she laughed, and we all continued our tumble toward whatever our destination might have been.

Nine years later, idly contemplating a laughing gaggle of undergrads sitting at a table across the room in La Burrita, it all came back. It was a minor incident, an acquaintance I saw little in my later undergrad years, and never since I graduated. I don't recall remembering it since. But for a moment, I smelled grass instead of salsa, and I remembered.

Memory's a funny thing.

On an unrelated note, the rdesktop protocol is pretty cool. My desktop at the office runs Linux, and I like it that way, but every now and then I have to work with Word documents or PowerPoint presentations. But since the department runs a Windows 2003 server that supports the rdesktop protocol, I can open a window that acts just like a Windows box. I'm restricted in what I can run on the server, so I can't use it to compile my codes for Windows; but even so, it's mightily useful.

  • Currently drinking: Black tea scented with caramel and memory