safety week.

So. Two weeks ago we had an event called "Safety Week" at our lovely little institution. This "Safety Week" consisted of various activities including random door checks, a safety seminar, and a "Stoplight Dance" for which we dressed in clothes that displayed our current relationship status for all to see. Red if you're taken, yellow if it's complicated, and green if you're single. The abundance of green was apalling. I wore black. Interpret it as a metaphor for my love life, or interpret it as my protesting the idea that all personal information should be posted for the world to see, I don't care. I fell asleep through the safety seminar. But hey, I got 100 points out of doing everything I did that week, the maximum anyone could get. That got me free ice cream and some Jolly Ranchers. Does that mean I'm the safest? Doubtful. I walk down Freshman Hill alone all the time in the middle of the night, probably not a good idea. Last night in our hall meeting, our next door neighbor told us about a group of guys who fly down here to our lovely little town specifically to rape Mormon virgins. Joy. My roommate says she'd die to protect her virginity, girl's a fighter. Me? I've got my pocketknife and rape whistle, I think I can handle my own.