Well, that's even more than less than unhelpful.


If You’re Already Mostly Dead, It Won’t Be Nearly As Painful.

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

Work-outs: 1

Transfigurations: 2


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.


Stargate, Ovens, and Very Small Rocks

It’s sitting right there. On my desk. Staring at me. It never stops. Usually, it blends into the background of the clutter. And, mind you, when I say “usually” I mean “never”.  What is it? The first season of Stargate SG1. That’s right folks. It just sits there, all the while silently entreating me to watch more episodes. Mind you, the last time I watched any was late September/early October. Why? Some good friends lent it to me. And I watched the first disk.

I might have watched the first episode on the second disk, but by this time I was starting to get in over my head with musical practice and homework. It is now January 30th. I’m a bit behind. Something really has to grab my attention in order for me to watch it, and as I was already bogged down (and had plenty of reasons to watch other wonderful movies and television) Stargate SG1 went on the back burner.

Logically, I should make a resolution to start watching the rest of it. But I won’t. At least not yet. After all, I am working my way through all of Lost again. Lost is just so, eh, gripping. There’s something about it. Instead of gushing on and on about how much I love Lost (as I have already done so many times and will likely do in the future) I will just leave it at that: gripping. Stargate SG1….not so much. But hey, I’ve only seen around 5 episodes, so who am I to say it’s not…gripping?

The reason I just told you all of this: I’m starting to figure out that I put things on the back burner when I’m not wholly interested at the moment. Whether relationships, the Bible (definitely–I hate reading it–which is another problem in itself), or things I should be doing to get healthy. So. I’m going to try something new. Fostering the relationships that I do such a good job of placing behind other priorities. I’m going to try to pick up “ye olde histoire” (the Bible) in the off chance that I get interested. (Actually, I really do like from around 1 Samuel to 2 Kings [not alot I realize] but I really enjoy the adventure in them–the fall and rise of kings, the battles, the epic Homeric qualities.) And, the final resolution: getting healthy. I’m going to try to kick my soda habit (and my “eat pizza twice a day” habit–yikes!) and start biking more regularly. In MN, you ask? That’s what the fitness center is for.

So yeah, Stargate SG1 is going on the back burner. Everything else–is coming forward.

Ummm. Today.

So. Dollar tree. Everything’s one dollar. Crazy. I know.

I get stuff there sometimes. Today:

1. “Whales” crackers. Basically goldfish offbrand that is so much ridiculously better tasting than goldfish that goldfish should be the offbrand.

Endangered species are just that much more satisfying.

2. Alpine “spiced apple cider” packets. So delicious. Not nutritious. But when all you need to add is water, its perfect.

3/4. Two books. Worth 35 dollars, but combined cost 2 dollars. SWAG.

5. A 3 liter of grape soda. That’s right. 3 liters. It’s like a baby full of delicious carbonation.

6. Chow Mein “beef teriyaki flavor”. So WAY better than yakisoba or whatever-the-actual-japanese-name-brand-really-is. Delicious. And foreign. Cough.

And so ends the foray to Dollar Tree. Got to skype with the Huang twins today. Was a lot of fun. But what was just as fun was introducing my family to the idea of skype. With just a few hiccups in the road, we are now skyping. Like maniacs. Well, we’ve done it once. Grandma, if you’re reading this, you should download skype. Then we can talk into the wee hours of the morning.

Speaking of which, my grandma–AKA G-Dawg–is one of the most intense grandmas ever. She stays up even later than me! Needless to say, she rocks my socks. I’ll be in bed at 1:30 am and get a call from her asking how my day went. Absolutely brilliant.

Went to Perkins. Ordered a short stack and a side of french fries. No. I’m not pregnant. Just odd. I can’t help it. For some people its the stars, for others its freedom, and still others its the ocean floor. Not me. French fries are my calling. Or rather, should I say, chips. With some vinegar.

Mmmmm. Chips. So delicately crispy.

Ah! And I got the go ahead to go with the stormtrooper one-act from my professor, so that’s all tied away.

Yup. Just my life so far today.

And right now my roomate, Kari, is eating pancakes. Not just any pancakes. Blueberry pancakes. (This is important because the only thing she’s been talking about for the last 2 weeks is blueberry pancakes.) So. She’s eating pancakes. With bacon and eggs–that are all leftover from the Perkins run earlier today. Okay, so this little mexican chica, orders the “tremendous twelve”. It has 3 eggs, 4 pieces of bacon, breakfast potatoes, and comes with, I wanna say around 4 pancakes. Needless to say, she didn’t get much down at lunch. And thus my day has been reduced to watching her slowly consume this amount of food.

Also. Eh. Nevermind. I’ll tell you about it later.


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.

No One Can Resist the Smile of Hurley. It Yells "BUY ME!" in a Really Nice Hurley Way.

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.

To Stormtrooper or Not to Stormtrooper, That is the Question.

Well, it’s been a bloody long time since I’ve updated this. Actually, I’m not sure how long it has been; however, I am fairly sure that it was at least before Christmas holiday which was WAY back in the middle of December, and I’m beginning to suspect, that it was even before Thanksgiving holiday when Into the Woods was going on. In other words–terrible blogging.

I’m a serial blogger. I blog to kill. Wait. That came out wrong.

It’s just that, when I’m consumed by other tasks, this goes on the back burner. Like a serial killer trying to appear normal. Okay, horrible metaphor aside, I’m just not great at following a routine. Unless of course I’m at work. Where I’m required to have a routine. (Hello, prospective future bosses!) That being said, I am now…drum roll please…gainfully employed! Woohooo!

Cue “Money, money, money…money!” Trump theme song. That’s probably copyrighted. And I might just possibly maybe definitely get sued for that one. Or at least fired.

Donald Trump does not approve.

Right, well then. What do I do, you might ask? My  least favorite thing–cleaning up after people, more specifically, taking out the trash at the university. Which is great fun when you’re in the dead of winter in MN. All complaining aside, it is actually great. No uniform. Get to wear the nose ring. No verbal communication. Get to have an ipod. Basically perfect.

Aside from the “surprise boxes” in the ladies’ room. I like to call them the “Hell No! boxes”. But that’s besides the point. Well, underneath it. Possibly above it or rather near. Not beside.

So, most of my time has been occupied by trying to juggle this new position and the copious amounts of homework sent my way. But I  do have a research paper on King Arthur that I should be working on very soon, so that should, at the very least, make things interesting.

Although, I might find it difficult trying to convince my professor that King Arthur was a very astute man in regards to the migration of coconuts. Get on with it!

Something else heading my way: I’m taking scriptwriting. We have to write a one act and short screenplay by the end of the semester. Hugely daunting tasks. Here’s the thing: I kind of sort of definitely want to do mine about a stormtrooper. A stormtrooper who is an artist (and/or dreams of participating in the intergalactic ballet) that must hide who he truly is in order to serve the empire. His dreams will never fully be realized, as he will die on the death star at the end of the one act because of Luke’s lovely aim. I’m thinking of making it less of a comedy and more of a focus on repressed people (by goodness, there are so many monty python references in this today!), more specifically, the lead stormtrooper who wants to be more than what he is. He wants to create; I’m also thinking of maybe having some internal conflict regarding whether or not he should be for the republic or for the empire. Just a few thoughts. Had to get that off my chest.

Couldn't resist. What with the Donald Trump reference above and all.

Right then. Go to bed, you sodding idiots. It’s 2:24 AM.

If Life Is A Highway–Screw Automobiles–I Want A Jet.

Right. Well, I had an idea. A really good one, in fact. But it just so happened to disappear. So gone. Long gone. Like Moses through the corn. (Insert Acknowledgement to The Black Keys Here.) My word count was just at 33. Right after the parentheses; however, now that I’ve stated that word count, my current word count is at 57.
Yeah, I’m not gonna spend the rest of this doing that. As mildly entertaining as that would be.

Bret's animated counterpart (Moses) is just as confused.

Well, it’s not like everything is set in stone anyways. What am I saying? I really don’t know. Just kind of typing whatever pops here. But trying really hard to leave out the really extraneaous information. Such as “Miguel and Tulio, Tulio and Miguel, mighty and powerful gods” which is from The Road to El Dorado but really has nothing to do with anything. But then that reminds me of the line in that movie “to err is human to forgive is divine” which reminds me of theatre literature class because I had it scrawled on the top right hand corner of the yellow handout. Someone said it first. George Bernard Shaw? Not sure. But that reminds me of Joan of Arc. (He wrote St. Joan.)
Which reminds me of a pageboy haircut (which for a second makes me think of a book in the public library in redwood falls that I read when I was in middle school about how to become a knight) but quickly changes to the fact that I had a real bad mushroom cut for the majority of my little-ness years. Basically until fourth grade-ish, I’m going to say. Which makes me think of that other time in my life when I totally looked like the tough guy from the breakfast club. Yeesh.
Family pictures taken of said haircut. I should say my family plus the guy from the breakfast club. I was practically his stunt double. Had I been alive when that film was created.

And this is what your face looks like right now.

Right. Sometimes….nevermind.

Those Russians And Their Potatoes For Making Vodka.

Well, right about now is the time when I should be studying for my British Literature final that takes place in t-minus six hours. But the public school system has failed me–they’ve allowed me to b.s. every document and test since the invention of the wheel. They’ve encouraged me to procrastinate and then use my eidetic memory to scan things for a couple of seconds and then remember them. They’ve rewarded me with good grades for slacking off. Eh.

This wouldn’t be such a problem if I wasn’t in love with Beowulf. Which was the first text we read for this class. Which left all other texts in its wake. Which left me unmotivated. Shakes fist at Beowulf for being so awesome. Because who really cares about Pope, Dryden, Herbert, Marvell, or Gray? Tyndale? (Okay, he gave us the bible, but I mean, who the hell does he think he is?!) Beowulf, and Sir Thomas Mallory’s Le Morte D’Artur have left a burning trail in their wakes.

Did you know that Beowulf comprises ten percent of our existing texts regarding Old English/Anglo-Saxon Literature? And who is it written by? ANONYMOUS. Huh? Huh?

This is where I ran into trouble on my playwright paper for my other literature class. I had absolutely no interest in what the people did or who they were–I’m more interested in the words they wrote–the words they crafted out of thin air to create a profound, unnerving, and ultimately poignant, meaning.

Oh. And this is the part where I shake my fist at grammar. Shakes fist.

I’ve noticed over the last year or so that I have slowly been losing my capacity to remember spelling or use the right form of a word. I’ll use “rolls” instead of “roles” even though I know the distinct meaning of both words. I’ll use “know” instead of “no” and vice versa. Is this a problem? Yes. But I guess it isn’t concerning me as much as it could be. Why, do you ask?

Because the times that I used those homophones incorrectly–I was able to effectively communicate a thought that had been cooking in the brain for quite some time. I’m finding that I’m more concerned with the general idea then what the structure of the words illustrating the idea look like. I’m more concerned with getting it all out on to the paper before I lose it all. My fingertips need to work faster to catch up with my synapses. Some things must be sacrificed in the process. In this case: spelling and grammar.

I’m definitely working on it though. No use giving something up that I’ve been perfectly able to do in the past.

Oh yeah. And for those of you wondering. I did spend time on wikipedia looking up vodka. More specifically Russian Vodka. WHAT A BUNCH OF POTATO MONGERS. You’ve got to love a people who can drink themselves under the table through the use of potatoes. Shakes fist at Russia for being so…well…Russian. (Insert In Soviet Russia joke here).

So. Studying for that final. Eh.