15 April 2003 - 10:59 p.m.

Things that Hatbox has stolen from me in order to play with and chew on:

-a mainly useless computer part.

-my Curse of the Cat People princess-y costume.

-one dollar.

She is one fucked up cat.

Not to get all up in vegetarians or anything, but is it not plain bad manners to ask with great interest what people had for dinner, and then make a gagging motion and barfing noise when they admit they had chicken?

Especially when said vegetarian eats fish?

And writes stories about having sex with animals?

I don't presume to be the arbiter of grossness or anything, but I don't think eating meat is anything I need to head into the closet to do. I mean, I don't serve meat to vegetarians. I frequently don't eat it in front of them. But eating chicken with another chicken eater and being asked about it later is not something I can do and simultaneously prepare for, lest I encounter some vegetarians I need to accomodate.

Speaking of chickens, this weirdass guy came into the grad lounge and started talking to J. Christ and me yesterday. He was so gregarious that I assumed he was a friend of Jack's but that was not the case. Then he mentioned he was interested in our MA program, only he was still raising kids, so it would probably have to wait.

Eventually, the conversation turned to the fact that he had 100 chickens on his farm, and I politely pointed out that Hollins was clearly the place for him, given that the fine folk around here do love their poultry.

Well, this guy then decided to point out the amazing coincidence that lies in the fact that some time ago, a group of people felt the need to point out the vast representation of chickenkind in film, and so on and so on, and Dude was so focused on trying to explain all this to us that he did not hear me say, though I spoke very clearly, "Yes, the Chicken Theory of the Cinema, of course."

And he went on to tell us how this theory had begun in Roanoke!

Of course, we weren't surprised at all. Everyone knows the Chicken Theory originated right here. So we were convinced Dude was just some friend of the RHW-dawg and was messing with us. Which is why Jack was very vague when he said, "Well, it could be that one of the founders of that theory is right down the hall from us!"

Clearly, he was, four doors down, but we didn't want to look like assholes. Otherwise, I would have led Dude down to meet Are-Aitch. But Dude just nodded like he was pondering something spiritual, and said, "You may be right! They could be anywhere!"

He then told us about a book on the Chicken Theory,including the specific title (he even spelled out "Cluck" for us) which I promptly found in the library catalogue. Clearly, Dude had been instrumental in the theory, and as soon as he left, we rushed to find out how.

But Are had no idea who that guy was other than a sort of Hollins hanger-on who was afraid of Are for some reason Are cannot remember. By the time J.C. and I had relayed all the details of the strange encounter, Kizzle Van Bizzle had arrived.

"Oh," he said, "You've met Terry." Like it was no thing at all!

Apparently, Dude was a summer film student named Terry, who, apart from having no fear of Lyme Disease, was not of much use to the campus. Or anyone. Kizzle claimed Terry actually doesn't have a bathroom, though the bit about his 100 chickens was true. The conversation ended with Are thanking me for following my instincts in NOT bringing Terry down to see him, because he'd just assume never have to deal with Terry ever, in spite of Terry's knowledge of the Chicken Theory, and of chicken farming.

The best part is that I immediately headed to the library to find that CLUCK!, in addition to being a fairly exhaustive volume, was dedicated to Are.

In summary, J.C. and I were surprised by a visitation from one Terry, who, unbeknownst to himself, idolizes Are for his contribution to the cultural study of chickens. What Terry does know is that he fears Are. What Are knows is that if he can help it, Terry will never be a Hollins creative writing MA, because Terry is just too freaking annoying.

In case you're wondering, yes, this is 100% true, and, yes, it is going in my book.

What I'm wearing: White cotton slip over pink pajama pants, curlers.

What I'm reading: Me cracking myself up over the encounter with Terry.

What I'm doing after this: Putting on deodorant.