cars where cars don’t belong

It really was five hours of sleep. Didn’t really eat lunch. How’s some yogurt sound? Live and active cultures, just like the world. The world is made of yogurt. The moon, cheese. It’s a giant dairy conspiracy, people. Grilled cheese. Peanut shells. No waking moment without the thought of food, the image of a grilled cheese sandwich grilled onto my mind. I wanted to stay. I wanna stay. Oh!

Russian Artist Factory – “Kensington” Over and over. Wait, it’s not Monday anymore. We can’t have Music Tuesday. Unless we make it TUNESday. Yar yar yar.

absofruitly

Four-hour conversations about math, politics, and illegal downloads make my life what it is. Also, getting less than five hours of sleep. And acne outbreaks. It’s real bad, man. Real bad. But Jason Mraz is telling me not to worry my life away.

blurgh

My foot fell asleep. Don’t you hate it when that happens? It’s a cool feeling once all the blood starts rushing back, though. Should I really be blogging before class starts? Probably not, but I feel like this week is going to be incredibly unproductive. AKA, it’s Midterm Week.

Don’t I have anything more interesting to talk about? I can’t swallow pills. Hypersensitive gag reflex for the loss. HARDLY STRICTLY BLUEGRASS THIS WEEKEND. Ben Kweller. Iron & Wine. And more.

It’s Monday! Music Monday! Haven’t done that in many a month, so let’s do it now.

Princeton – “Ms. Bentwich”

an insert

You sum up my being.

Attention, Sporadic Readers!

Hey, I’m in college now! How the hell did that happen? I couldn’t tell you if I tried. This is like high school on steroids. I figure Mark As Read was due for an update. Sporadic updating for sporadic readers! The perfect relationship. I thought this year would be the year of returning to Livejournal permanently, but I don’t think that’ll ever happen. It’s like, after you’re away for a month / two months / half a year / a whole year, you get so out of the loop and all. And it’s way too difficult to get back in the loop once you come back, if you ever do. Although, I do half-ass a lot of things. The one thing I just can’t approach with half-assery, however, is making my math homework neat. That’s when the OCD rears its ugly head. (Also, when the Lysol wipes come out.) I haven’t written for fun in so long that it’s like I’ve forgotten how to. That sounds like an awkwardly constructed sentence. I think it has to do with it ending in “to.” Prepositions? Are those what they’re called? In, on. I’ve missed this blog. It’s like my little place on the interwebs where I can think aloud. Whenever I do it on Facebook, I’ve always got some ’splaining to do, and sometimes I just don’t feel like ’splaining because it can be an arduous process. I’m banning myself from Facebook. It’s become a giant time-sucker. I’m pouring salt on my time-sucker.

THE OFFICE! Every time I go home for the weekend, I just sit there and rewatch the seasons on DVD. All day. It would be sad if it wasn’t so awesome. I’ve got 6 + 22 + 23 + 14 = 28 + 23 + 14 = 28 + 37 = 65 episodes to choose from. My arithmetic’s shabby because I’ve been relying on my trusty TI-83 Plus to crunch the numbers for me during these last four years. Sadly, that’s changing because my professor has banned the use of calculators. (There be tears.) So, there’s little two digit numbers being added, multiplied, and subtracted in the margins of my homework. And I do it lightly, too, thinking that somehow my GSI won’t see that I can’t add, multiply, or subtract simple numbers in my head like those genius front-sitters can. I don’t like this academic digression. Back to The Office, plzkthxbi. I’ve recently discovered that I love “Safety Training” from Season 3, if not for the cold open with Andy’s return then for the “Dwight, you ignorant slut!” And the shunning / reshunning. In fact, I love all the episodes on Disc 4. In fact, I love The Office. It’s grrrape! … soda.