Squinches, Cardinal Bimbo, and My Hair Shirt

It's been a bit of an odd morning:

1. In the middle of my art history lecture on Byzantine and Carolingian architecture (think Constantine to Charlemagne), which was filled with just as many big words as you'd think it would be, I found out what the little pictures around the edges of a dome in a church are called. Squinches. I kid you not. That may not be how you spell it, but I swear my very well-published professor talked for about ten minutes on the propogandistic imporatance of a word that sounds like the noise wet Wellingtons make in the rain.
2. We're about to start studying The Courtier in renaissance literature, which means that my very old, cute, and exceedingly distinguished professor (he edited the Norton, for goodness sakes!) spent a while talking to us about how to understand "Cardinal Bimbo's discourse on love". When he gave out the handout, it turned out to actually be Cardinal Bembo, but still. I was distracted and giggly the whole rest of the class.
3. Of course, my distraction was not helped by the fact that I went to pull what I thought was a loose string from my sweater during class, only to find it was a two-inch long, curly, wiry, white hair. I stared at it dumbfoundedly for a few minutes before finally realizing that the hair must have come from Charlie, the adorable little dog owned by my friend Sarah (who used to own this sweater). Still, it was disconcerting to know that hair from a dog could have hidden more than a year in my sweater. It makes me wonder what else is hiding in my sweaters...

I also wonder what bizarre words and strange discoveries the afternoon will bring.

heehee -- squinches.