The Day After Elvis' Birthday

First, I would like you, the reader, to read (back) over this post: Felicem diem natalem.

Now consider the experience of turning in my English department application:

I took a break at 10am and grabbed the manila envelope of the last post and headed down to the English Philosophy Building. I didn't have to work until noon on the day I turned in my WW application, so I didn't have to worry about leaving work. Two of the students working wished me luck as I left.

Upon entering the building, I went to the forth floor hoping to catch a professor whom I had talked to back in November. Not only was she not there, the whole floor was dark.

I went to the third floor and the English office. They pointed me to the Graduate Studies office, and upon entering that, went to the second door and noticed a woman with a large U.S. Mail crate and a few boxes scattered around her. I didn't catch her name, but upon seeing my name on the envelope, she commented that she had seen my name the day before and that she had wondered the following:

"Do you get made fun of because of your name? I live in the Amana's and constantly hear "Where's your horse and buggy?""

I replied that I used to be bothered by it, but if one of my best friends could call me "Aww-mish" (as opposed to "Ugh-meesh"), I couldn't be upset and everybody else for it. She was very pleasant and before I left, she tore open my envelope and began to sort everything.

Much more pleasant experience than the Dey House.

I really hope I get to join these folks.