Dear students,
Apparently food continues to disappear from at least one kitchen and several of your rooms. Please remember to lock your rooms and apartments when you're not there, as we can't guarantee the safety of your belongings otherwise.
I'm growing increasingly concerned about the person who is taking the food. If you feel you need to talk to someone, please come to my office or send me an email. I can get help for you. If you choose to come talk to me (or Martina) you won't be punished, we want to help.
Best,
Thea
I think I speak for most people when I say, um, what the fuck? This person/these people aren't anorexic cleptos, Thea. They don't need your help, they need to get over the fact that they had stuff stolen and stop taking other people's stuff as an act of revenge. I'm also confused about the sudden concern- she definitely threatened them with expulsion in the last email, so why the change of heart? It's sort of like she's trying to pull off the classic good cop/bad cop, but I'm pretty sure you need two people for that to work. Hrmmmm.... plus, what can she actually do? I doubt there's a program for food thieves in recovery. I smell a trap.All this reminds me of something that happened my senior year of high school. Everyone has one story that, when they think about their time in high school, just jumps out at them, and this is one of them. One day, some kid took a dump in a school bathroom and then wrote messages on the mirrors using his "fecal matter." Now that's disgusting and everything, but when they made the announcement about it, I realized how funny the situation actually was. He would strike every week or so, leaving his shit poetry or whatever he was writing on the mirrors, and school administrators had absolutely no idea who it was. In time, he developed a sort of cult hero status among all of us, eventually earning his own moniker- The Poop Bandit. They eventually busted him for stealing laptops, and it came out during that business that he was the Poop Bandit. Three years later, there's only one class left at Waterford High that was there for his reign, and I suspect they will pass down the story to everyone else.
I'm not sure if the saga of the hamburglar(s) has earned that kind of notoriety yet, but I certainly hope it does. I can see it now: at orientation in New York for the fall 2010 students, a nervous sophomore will ask about what it was like living in Machova. The four or five Prague veterans will exchange looks and maybe a knowing chuckle, pause, and then launch into the story of disappearing yogurt and stolen pizza toppings. Five years from now, students will be cautioned upon arrival about the dangers of a communal refrigerator. Why, someone will ask, has there been a problem in the past with stolen food? Shaking his bald head and smiling, Honza will answer: You have no idea.
This week promised to be really easy, and it is exceeding expectations left and right. That's not to say I'm just sitting around all day, but let's run down my schedule. Monday was Radio News and Reporting the Arts, and while Radio News made me work and think, all we did in Reporting the Arts was watch a movie. Tuesday was Cultural History of the City, and we spent half the class in a museum and half in the classroom and I spent it all not paying attention. Today, I had Modern Dissent, which is always really great, but Radio News got cancelled. Tomorrow, Jan Urban is going out of town so we're watching a movie in Modern Dissent, and it's field trip day in Reporting the Arts. Yes, that's really my week. With Sean's help I discovered StumbleUpon, which now owns my life, so I'm filling my free time nicely.
Other than that, not much has happened since my last post. I went to Barcelona this weekend with Alexis and Brie and for some much-needed fun in the sun. It's one of the most gorgeous cities I've ever seen, thanks mainly to Gaudi's genius and insanity. We met Alexis' parents there and spent most of our time eating, napping, and exploring. The pictures (assuming I ever get around to posting them on facebook) will speak for themselves, so I don't need to go into too much detail. My favorite part was definitely the last day when we went to this mountaintop park that has incredible views of the entire city and harbor.
Travel highlights:
- There was an old man in spandex pants and a military jacket dancing around to the airport muzak at 7:15 in the morning. Honestly, it was the perfect send-off from Prague.
- Paris-Beuvais airport is not even remotely close to Paris. It smelled like cow dung and I'm pretty sure the airport (all 3 gates of it) used to be part of a farm. By the way, if any of us are starting to convince ourselves that Czech food isn't that bad, that it's actually pretty good and what were other people complaining about, stop. I had one of the best meals of my European experience in a dinky little cafe in this dinky little airport. Just goes to show you that the Czechs need to put away the communist cookbooks and branch out a little.
- The seats don't even recline on RyanAir. Love that shit. Our flight attendant had a combination of a Spanish accent and an Irish brogue, which was hilarious. He also tried to sell us electronic cigarettes, because that way we could smoke them on the plane and god forbid anyone has to go 2 hours without a cigarette. We thought about buying a pack just to see what the hell it was like but in the end I decided against the straight shot of pure nicotine to my brain.
- The Czechs are indeed determined smokers, and I'm pretty sure that every announcement on my flight back to Prague ended with something like "Oh, and remember, this is a non-smoking flight. Smoking is illegal. Don't smoke. Yes, that means you."
Ho ho. Hamburglar.
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