Yale, Yale, Yale

I don't think I'll do this on a regular basis, but I'll forget the details if I don't post now. I'll just have to post the investigation into Trinidadian Benedictine identity theft. After a day in the quiet confines of the Mechanics Institute Library, where I finished reading the Canaanite mythological corpus so that I could return the book on Wednesday, I mounted the hill to the University Club via Powell. I was temporarily is blocked by the incessant crimson of the cable cars. Then I arrived at the University Club, where there was to be a Yale group singing - without a brawl. It turns out that one of the female members of Red, Hot, and Blue, was the friend of Andrew, who is a fellow CSB alum. The only girl in jeans there was a friend of Andrew's friend; she had gone to a familiar local school on the other side of the bay.