Remember that time I decided to be healthy? Bullocks. It means that I have to wake up at approximately 6:53 AM–I realize this is a very exact number–but I need at least seven minutes in the morning to stumble around my room blindly while I get dressed before heading to the workout room, mind you, I did bump into a few things, but considerably less things than I thought I would. So. It’s now 7 AM. Go into the hallway, fill up my waterbottle, and make the trek to the workout room. Biked 7.67 miles on resistance (not fun–but as I’m a barely functioning human at 7 in the morning it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as when I go at night) and then I walked for a little over a mile on the treadmill. And now….I have way too much time to kill.
Well, by “way too much” I mean about an hour. Waiting for my roommate to get out of the shower…so I can shower. I know, I know, duh. And then I still don’t even have to be to class until 9:55 AM. So yeah. I guess I could crack out Ye Olde Histoire right now. Might do that.
Or go on hulu.
Sodas this week: 0
Lost episodes this week: 0
Pages of King Arthur Research Paper written: 1
Also. Finished up season one of Lost yesterday (watched an astounding four episodes AND did my homework). So, as a tribute to season one, and the beginning of season two, I will now insert propaganda.
So. I’m falling in love with Weezer all over again. Mind you, I ‘ve only done it once before, when their “Red Album” came out, but the second times the charm. It’s just that now that I have a job, and I can listen to my ipod for 3 hours of interrupted time, I’m finding myself coming back over and over again to Weezer. (Well, and Mumford and Sons, but that just goes without saying.) Last time I was home, I was able to rip the new Weezer album “Hurley” onto my mac.
Admittedly, I wasn’t too impressed the first time I heard it. Hold the phone, right? But then I really started listening. And the songs? They’re hilarious when they aren’t completely on. But here’s the thing. They’re almost always completely on. They do a good job of serving the truth hot on a plate. The track “Where’s My Sex?” seems like it would be a great national anthem for North Central students. Now I CANNOT STOP LISTENING. Just so good. I might even prefer it to the “Red Album” (and that’s big, considering I’m obsessed with the “Red Album”.)
And. The cover has Hurley on it. I mean, you just can’t go wrong with Hurley on the cover.
Speaking of which, I’ve starting watching Lost from the beginning again. I know, I know. Crazy sauce. But it happens. I happen to be one of the ten percent people who actually appreciated the series finale. So good. There’s just something so great about Lost–it gives me that feeling you get when something is just SO RIGHT–when your heart swells and you feel like it’s going to break outside of your chest. That same lyrical line in the music never fails to hit me exactly in the right spot–sad, but true. Besides the emotional impact of Lost, the show alone was just brilliant. And by brilliant, I mean that it had a lot of academic sub-text. Many of the characters were named after famous philosophers (ie John Locke and Desmond Hume), there were copious amounts of literature referenced, and tons of science mumbo-jumbo that I’m sure I still don’t understand.
The really sad part is that I firmly believe that another show like Lost will never again occur. At least not in the next fifteen years. You just don’t get originality like that anymore. Well, I have five more episodes to go and I’ll be done with season 1. (I started on Sunday–a pretty good feat considering there are 24 episodes in the first season and I’m a full-time college student with a steady job.)
So. Weezer. Hurley. Lost. Just plain good.
Because it’s more than slightly awkward to have “Han about to kiss Leia” as the header of your blog. If all else fails, go with Jack Sparrow. Nobody ever has anything to say about him. No really. They don’t.
So. If you haven’t noticed yet, those of you who somewhat follow these random musings, I can’t really stick with one “blog theme background thingy”. I went for the grunge look, which worked quite well, but then I didn’t have a header. So I switched to a nice dark theme (a slight variation on the grunge theme but with a header). And then I figured out “customizable header” or in other words “complete license to arbitrarily insert pictures that may or may not accurately represent your blog and will infringe on all copyright rights”. (Does copyright rights seem redundant to you?)
Anyways, after going through dozens of images (including but not limited to Doctor Who, Lost, Me–which led to some concerns about my identity but then I thought “well I guess my identity is on facebook for the whole world to see so I don’t know what the big deal is anyways”–to pictures of knights, more Doctor Who, and then Star Wars. Of course, the only Star Wars picture I had on my mac that was compatible with the “header upload thingy” was a picture of Han going in to kiss Leia. And I felt like maybe that would be a bit awkward. I mean, everytime someone wants to see a post, they gotta look at this big ol’ picture of Han and Leia getting it on, you know what I mean? I feel like that would be a bit strange, if not awkward, and possibly just bogus.
So I settled on Jack Sparrow. Because no one ever has anything bad to say about Jack, excluding Barbosa of course. And it kind of syncs up with the Jack Sparrow quote I have on the main blog page anyway: “Well that’s even more than less than unhelpful”. Although, admittedly, the Sparrow picture that I selected does seem like it would support his more common phrase of “why is the rum always gone?”
So. Those are my thoughts. Also, intramural football is a lot of fun. Who knew one could get such joy from getting muddy and down and dirty early in the morning? Oh, that’s right. Me. I just forgot about how fun soccer was for the six years I played. Football was fun. Usually I rip on football. Because it just isn’t as tough as Rugby. Which is true. But technically, since we weren’t playing with pads, I would kind of compare intramural football to rugby. Oh, and I got to run into people without getting in trouble. Although, now I am really sore. Like super crazy sore. But so worth it. Man, I love mud and battle wounds!
And now I am going to try to sleep. Until some other random thought passes through my head and I have to get back on the internet to check wikipedia. That’s the problem about asking questions. You have to look for the answers. Which gets pretty annoying when you’re trying to fall asleep but all that you can think about is what the main ingredient for borscht is. (It’s beets if you didn’t know. Now I know.) Also, borscht is a very fun word to spell, type, and say. Just do it.
Random thoughts. But who am I kidding? These are always random thoughts….
It’s cold and overcast. Perfect. No really. Perfectamundo. It should be like this all the time. Even got to break out my thermal long-sleeve shirt. Shakes fist at Minnesota for being ridiculously awesome.
Had a hamburger for lunch. From the deli. It was tasty, surprisingly. Had some cheetos. I used to hate cheetos. All that orange cheesy powdery stuff was not really the direction I was heading in. And then, one fateful day in January, I went out on a limb at the deli and got some. They were delicious. I’m really only saying this because today I went out on a limb and got a hamburger. It was nice and hot. Was gonna get soup. But no wild rice. Just minestrone. Gross. Or chicken noodle. Eh. So I went for the cheetos. And a hamburger.
Sporks not only remind me of Ryan Canaday and Jairus Houdek, but also remind me of the comic strip “Get Fuzzy”. I love Bucky. So great. And poor Satchel. Not that I really feel bad for him. Also, Cat used to have a huge spork at the Calf-fiend Cafe. Which is also an awesome place. Want good food and a great atmosphere? Go there. They are also selling it, so you should probably buy it right now. No. Now. There. Now I’ve gotten my spiel for them in. Buy it. NOW.
Where the Red Fern Grows. Should not be required for a fifth grader. What fifth grader, in their right mind, wants to read about a boy and his best friend–his dog–who dies tragically at the end. It’s bad enough that they made us read that “Secret of Nimh” book, which also happens to be a cartoon.
Speaking of creepy children’s cartoons, if you ever want to rake your eyes out after watching one, and be afraid of bunnies, watch the animated version of “Watership Down”. You will cry. You will scream. You will see lots of cartoon blood, rabies foaming, and nazi bunnies. Turns out that a book structured as social commentary doesn’t work so well for the kiddies.
Reading Beowulf again, this time the version translated by Seamus “something-or-other” (pretty sure his last name starts with an H but oh well. He’s a famous Irish poet. Get over it.) Just as good as the first time, if not better, man I love the epic poem format. The Odyssey. The Iliad. Beowulf. And the best part, is my professor had a recording of what the first sixteen lines would have sounded like in the now archaic language. It was awesome.
Eh. Don’t want to write. Kinda miffed. Because I have to work at dominos tonight. So. Yah. There you go.
And now I will insert a random photo. Because that is what I do.