It's been quite the busy week for me at University, for a change, and I think I'm still at the point where I'm actively enjoying it. Not only have I decided to take a gamble with such foreign concepts as "attending class" and "studying," but the rest of my free time has been consumed with International Week seminars.
In the past two days I've managed to sit in on the following sessions:
01 - The Wall In Palestine
02 - When Victims Become Perpetrators: Children of War in the Process of Peace
03 - Issues and Perspectives of Peacebuilding in West Africa
04 - Human Security: War in the 21st Century
05 - FILM - Musicians in the War Zone: A Look at the Effects of War on Children
06 - The National Missile Defense Plan: Consequences for Canadian Independence
07 - Building Sustainable Peace
08 - Edzimkulu: Rebuilding AIDS Communities in South Africa
09 - Breathing Peace (an actual seminar on rediscovering the secrets of natural breathing)
10 - Feeding off Empty Bellies: Structural Violence and the Global Economy
11 - Ending Conflict on the Roof of the World: Potential Solutions fo the Tibet Problem
12 - The Arar Case: A Public Forum
13 - Perspectives on Peace: Pride, Promises, Problems - Canada's Role in the World
That's 1010 minutes of lecture time, or just shy of 17 hours in a mere 2 days...and I've still got 3 days left!
Going to bed last night, though, would have made today run much more smoothly. I reached the sleep-deprived, nerve-rattled boiling point fairly early in my day, as a man sitting in front of me was eating walnuts very slowly, and very crunchily. At the time it felt like I was seconds away from going insane, but I withheld the urge to murder the poor soul, and slowly counted back from ten (not purposely slowly, but 'cause I was super tired) while he continued on enjoying his precious nuts.
Between seminars I stopped in the bathroom, and I really must have looked like hell to all those people around me. My eyes were bloodshot, a vacant stare glazed-over my eyes, and I was wearing army cargos, an "American Psycho" President Bush t-shirt, a ginormous wool-knit touque, and my German army parka. Either I looked like a very tired Faculty of Arts senior student, or a cracked-out junkie trying catch a nap indoors. The line between the two is often very blurred and indistinct.
What did snap me back to harsh reality, though, were the ungodly temperatures enveloping the City of Champions. On campus the mercury read -42C, and that's before the "where'd my testicles go!?" windchill effect, which made it feel closer to -50C! But really, once things dip below -30C it's so mind-numbingly cold that you begin to question just why our Forefathers thought this particular chunk of dirt would make a great place for a sovereign nation anyways?
Currently listening to: Hell freezing over - it's really that cold, dammit!
Wednesday, January 28, 2004
Monday, January 26, 2004
Super Nerd Love +4
I might be accused of being the kettle who called the pot black, during this tale, but that doesn't negate my necessity to share it with you.
It was the last day of the Imaginus poster sale on campus, and after carefully narrowing down my poster selections from an initial 8, to an eventual 3, to an actual 2, I was politely informed that only cash or credit was accepted, and I was to take my Interac-carrying ass directly out the door and down to the cash machines. It was standing in line at the Royal Bank Instant Teller that I witnessed one of nature's little miracles - the mysterious enigma known as love.
Directly ahead of me in line were a boy and a girl (or young man and young woman) who resembled real-life interpretations of the characters in the latest Penny Arcade strip. Uber-Nerds to the extreme, with all the social ineptitude and awkwardness that this walk of life entails. It was the first time, I believe, that I've seen such a young lady with a hunched back, and a gentleman with such a dazzling array of pens and highlighters in his front pocket. The way they stumbled shyly through two word sentences, the averted gazes to the floor and Coca-Cola sponsored walls, even the fact that they were totally holding up the line whilst enamored in this cosmic ballet, drew my attention to one simple truth:
It was the most beautiful thing I'd seen all day!
Currently: Crying on the inside 'cause they ran out of "Bathroom Bolshevik" posters
It was the last day of the Imaginus poster sale on campus, and after carefully narrowing down my poster selections from an initial 8, to an eventual 3, to an actual 2, I was politely informed that only cash or credit was accepted, and I was to take my Interac-carrying ass directly out the door and down to the cash machines. It was standing in line at the Royal Bank Instant Teller that I witnessed one of nature's little miracles - the mysterious enigma known as love.
Directly ahead of me in line were a boy and a girl (or young man and young woman) who resembled real-life interpretations of the characters in the latest Penny Arcade strip. Uber-Nerds to the extreme, with all the social ineptitude and awkwardness that this walk of life entails. It was the first time, I believe, that I've seen such a young lady with a hunched back, and a gentleman with such a dazzling array of pens and highlighters in his front pocket. The way they stumbled shyly through two word sentences, the averted gazes to the floor and Coca-Cola sponsored walls, even the fact that they were totally holding up the line whilst enamored in this cosmic ballet, drew my attention to one simple truth:
It was the most beautiful thing I'd seen all day!
Currently: Crying on the inside 'cause they ran out of "Bathroom Bolshevik" posters
Sunday, January 25, 2004
Monkey Year
Happy Chinese New Year! Wha? You say the Chinese New Year was on January 22...not January 24!? Well then, someone forgot to tell the private Chinese New Year party that had taken over The Fox.
To be perfectly clear, I hold no animosity towards the Chinese or their holidays, but the presence of their party at the bar effectively wiped out nearly all the highlights that had convinced me to show up in the first place. While talking to my buddy on the phone, he was very excited to reveal all the goodness that awaited me - no line, no cover, cheap drinks, cheap wings because of the Oilers game, a pub atmosphere...but with a dance floor, and a waitress who was supposed to feed us $1.50 shooters all night! In case you were keeping track of that all, it's quite an unbroken string of positives.
Unfortunately, the reality of the situation was far different: "Wha, ticket? I need a $5 ticket to get in? Oh, coat-check, okay, it's only a few bucks. Hmmm...the kitchen's closed, eh? It's a good thing I ate those Skittles for lunch. So, barkeep, what's the specials? Oh, no specials, but $4.50 for a beer. Sure, I think I'll get one. Hey guys, you have to pay to get in, too? You did? Well, are there at least cheap shooters? I don't think I can afford another beer. $3.00 each...*long, loud scream of anguish*"
I guess the party made all previous Saturday Night specials void. But I did get a cool red envelope at the door, and made out with the first monkey I saw.
An actual monkey, not one of the Chinese people at the bar. Sheesh.
Currently listening to: Coldplay - Sparks
To be perfectly clear, I hold no animosity towards the Chinese or their holidays, but the presence of their party at the bar effectively wiped out nearly all the highlights that had convinced me to show up in the first place. While talking to my buddy on the phone, he was very excited to reveal all the goodness that awaited me - no line, no cover, cheap drinks, cheap wings because of the Oilers game, a pub atmosphere...but with a dance floor, and a waitress who was supposed to feed us $1.50 shooters all night! In case you were keeping track of that all, it's quite an unbroken string of positives.
Unfortunately, the reality of the situation was far different: "Wha, ticket? I need a $5 ticket to get in? Oh, coat-check, okay, it's only a few bucks. Hmmm...the kitchen's closed, eh? It's a good thing I ate those Skittles for lunch. So, barkeep, what's the specials? Oh, no specials, but $4.50 for a beer. Sure, I think I'll get one. Hey guys, you have to pay to get in, too? You did? Well, are there at least cheap shooters? I don't think I can afford another beer. $3.00 each...*long, loud scream of anguish*"
I guess the party made all previous Saturday Night specials void. But I did get a cool red envelope at the door, and made out with the first monkey I saw.
An actual monkey, not one of the Chinese people at the bar. Sheesh.
Currently listening to: Coldplay - Sparks
Friday, January 23, 2004
Old School
It's almost hard to comprehend, but for one of the first times in my illustrious academic career, I'll discover what it's like to have scholastic responsibilities outside of the classroom. Unlike many students in other faculties, like Science, I don't have hours of labs, or group projects, or "homework." A large portion of my classes are simply read the books, attend a few classes, write the midterm, write the final, get decent grade.
In a way, it's rejuvenating to break these boundaries and actually do some active learning. This week at the University of Alberta is International Week, where countless guest speakers, performers, and discussion panels, are at your disposal to learn about this crazy world we live in. And considering I'm about to finish a BA in Sociology - the official study of how this crazy world works - I can't believe I haven't taken advantage of this amazing opportunity to learn ever before! Topics range from "The Right to Health in the Era of Globalization," to "Human Security: War in the 21st Century," to "Edzimkulu: Rebuilding AIDS Communities in South Africa." The opening ceremonies were a melange of free-style rappers, break dancers, and poetry readings, and I was actually enjoying the true nature of my field of study - the one glossed over by bland textbooks and studying the minutiae of sociological statistics.
God bless my Professor, who had the foresight and determination to make attendance at International Week events a requirement for the course, basing several papers and exercises on what you've learned. Though I only need to attend a fraction of the events to effectively do my assignments, this opportunity has inspired me to soak as much up as possible.
So, for the first time ever, I'll enjoy an entire week of school where I have more academic hours logged outside the classroom than in. And quite frankly, I couldn't possibly have a more eager grin on my face.
Currently listening to: Coldplay - High Speed
In a way, it's rejuvenating to break these boundaries and actually do some active learning. This week at the University of Alberta is International Week, where countless guest speakers, performers, and discussion panels, are at your disposal to learn about this crazy world we live in. And considering I'm about to finish a BA in Sociology - the official study of how this crazy world works - I can't believe I haven't taken advantage of this amazing opportunity to learn ever before! Topics range from "The Right to Health in the Era of Globalization," to "Human Security: War in the 21st Century," to "Edzimkulu: Rebuilding AIDS Communities in South Africa." The opening ceremonies were a melange of free-style rappers, break dancers, and poetry readings, and I was actually enjoying the true nature of my field of study - the one glossed over by bland textbooks and studying the minutiae of sociological statistics.
God bless my Professor, who had the foresight and determination to make attendance at International Week events a requirement for the course, basing several papers and exercises on what you've learned. Though I only need to attend a fraction of the events to effectively do my assignments, this opportunity has inspired me to soak as much up as possible.
So, for the first time ever, I'll enjoy an entire week of school where I have more academic hours logged outside the classroom than in. And quite frankly, I couldn't possibly have a more eager grin on my face.
Currently listening to: Coldplay - High Speed
Thursday, January 22, 2004
Save on Enmity
My, how times change. As I lined my groceries up on the conveyor belt, or Movator, or magic grocery transporter, it dawned on me just how drastically my food purchasing decisions have altered since my first year of University. The guy in line behind me managed to lose his card in said belt, so I had a few extra moments to dwell on this thought.
A sample, from my typical grocery list back when I was 18, looked a little something like this:
- Milk
- Pop
- Potato Chips
- Tub of Gummie Bears
- Jumbo bag of Dino Sours
- Pizza Pops
- Mr. Noodle
- Bacon
That's a far cry from what I picked up today:
- Milk
- Lean Hamburger
- Flax Multigrain Bread
- Apples
- Grapes
- Fettuccini
- Alfredo Sauce
- Lettuce
You'll notice I've added this strange and mysterious food group known as Fruits and Vegetables, which, though purportedly healthier for me than a 5kg bag of Dino Sours, doesn't provide nearly the same sugar high and insulin shock.
Currently listening to: Matthew Good - In A World Called Catastrophe
A sample, from my typical grocery list back when I was 18, looked a little something like this:
- Milk
- Pop
- Potato Chips
- Tub of Gummie Bears
- Jumbo bag of Dino Sours
- Pizza Pops
- Mr. Noodle
- Bacon
That's a far cry from what I picked up today:
- Milk
- Lean Hamburger
- Flax Multigrain Bread
- Apples
- Grapes
- Fettuccini
- Alfredo Sauce
- Lettuce
You'll notice I've added this strange and mysterious food group known as Fruits and Vegetables, which, though purportedly healthier for me than a 5kg bag of Dino Sours, doesn't provide nearly the same sugar high and insulin shock.
Currently listening to: Matthew Good - In A World Called Catastrophe
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Circadian Tango
So, here it is - the hour you're supposed to be waking up and you still haven't gone to bed, haven't even enjoyed a wink of sleep. You've formulated a brilliant scheme to force your body to cooperate and adhere to a reasonable sleeping schedule, but you know it won't be easy. After all, you've still got a whole waking day ahead of you, and if you're to win this war you can't succumb to slumber until your regularly scheduled time. Why are you in this position, you might ask? It's because you've been going to bed later and later...and later...and either getting less sleep or simply waking up later and later...and later.
Ever been in this position? Ever think that staying up a long time to make yourself extra tired would actually help you get back in to the rhythm of things? But we all know what's going to happen, don't we? Sure, you'll tough it out, you'll stay up for that super-long period of time, with the lovely bags under your eyes and the inability to string more than two coherent sentences together - but then it'll happen. You'll get your second wind! Don't deny it, you'll know it'll happen!
And there you'll be, no further ahead at correcting your sleeping habits. But hey, you'll have that zombie-like,whacked out day you just spent overtired. That's gotta count for something!
Currently - Watching a string of movies; class starts in 4 hours
Ever been in this position? Ever think that staying up a long time to make yourself extra tired would actually help you get back in to the rhythm of things? But we all know what's going to happen, don't we? Sure, you'll tough it out, you'll stay up for that super-long period of time, with the lovely bags under your eyes and the inability to string more than two coherent sentences together - but then it'll happen. You'll get your second wind! Don't deny it, you'll know it'll happen!
And there you'll be, no further ahead at correcting your sleeping habits. But hey, you'll have that zombie-like,whacked out day you just spent overtired. That's gotta count for something!
Currently - Watching a string of movies; class starts in 4 hours
Monday, January 19, 2004
Ninja Stealth
Whoa, Nelly! It's almost unfathomable, but my buddy Bender and I have managed to pull off the same fantastical feat for the second time - and pretty much on the same group of friends. Now, first and foremost, I have a very close group of friends. In fact, I've known some of these clowns before we were old enough to attend kindergarten, so we've grown to be very liberal with the pranking and smart-ass sass-mouth to one another. Naturally it's all in good fun, and if you can't mess around with your friends every once in a while, then who can you?
A rather large group of us had gathered for the evening at Bender's apartment in order to get "primed" before heading out to the bar. Being (what feels like life-long) University students, we've discovered it's far cheaper to have a few drinks before heading out on the town, where booze prices are even more dastardly than the liquor stores around campus. Most of these people were pressing pretty hard to head out to the bar, when quite frankly, the rest of us would have enjoyed staying in for the evening - probably in an attempt to master our inebriated NHL 2004 skills.
Around midnight people started grabbing their jackets and filing out the door, no doubt in an attempt to herd us towards some God-awful dive that blared Top 40's week in and week out. Bender and I, however, had other plans. We held back, slowly getting ready while everyone else started leaving the apartment to wait around the corner for the elevator. We took so long, in fact, that they sent Ross back to grab us, but as soon as he opened the front door he saw the glimmer of mischief in our eyes.
Without even exchanging a word we bolted the other way down the hall to the stairwell, Ross in tow, and hurled ourselves down 8 flights of stairs, grabbing the railings and leaping to each landing. Now, Ross isn't exactly the most agile of men, and he did wipe out once or twice, but he made it out of the building with Bender and I, where we then proceeded to make our way to the Strath.
It was a brilliantly executed plan, and it was pulled off with Splinter Cell-like efficiency - I guess all those hours logged on Gamecube finally paid off. And to the victors, of course, go all the spoils, for at the Strath we ran in to at least a dozen acquaintances who were more than happy to join us in our celebratory downing of $9.00 pitchers of draught. Cheers!
Currently: Editing tale for any intensely incriminating conjectures
A rather large group of us had gathered for the evening at Bender's apartment in order to get "primed" before heading out to the bar. Being (what feels like life-long) University students, we've discovered it's far cheaper to have a few drinks before heading out on the town, where booze prices are even more dastardly than the liquor stores around campus. Most of these people were pressing pretty hard to head out to the bar, when quite frankly, the rest of us would have enjoyed staying in for the evening - probably in an attempt to master our inebriated NHL 2004 skills.
Around midnight people started grabbing their jackets and filing out the door, no doubt in an attempt to herd us towards some God-awful dive that blared Top 40's week in and week out. Bender and I, however, had other plans. We held back, slowly getting ready while everyone else started leaving the apartment to wait around the corner for the elevator. We took so long, in fact, that they sent Ross back to grab us, but as soon as he opened the front door he saw the glimmer of mischief in our eyes.
Without even exchanging a word we bolted the other way down the hall to the stairwell, Ross in tow, and hurled ourselves down 8 flights of stairs, grabbing the railings and leaping to each landing. Now, Ross isn't exactly the most agile of men, and he did wipe out once or twice, but he made it out of the building with Bender and I, where we then proceeded to make our way to the Strath.
It was a brilliantly executed plan, and it was pulled off with Splinter Cell-like efficiency - I guess all those hours logged on Gamecube finally paid off. And to the victors, of course, go all the spoils, for at the Strath we ran in to at least a dozen acquaintances who were more than happy to join us in our celebratory downing of $9.00 pitchers of draught. Cheers!
Currently: Editing tale for any intensely incriminating conjectures
Friday, January 16, 2004
Comrades, Unite!
Ah yes, it's almost the end of January, and with that, a wholesale regime change at the ol' Lambda Chi Alpha house.
Though I'm no longer an Active Member, and more like an Alumni (who just hasn't happened to graduate in the traditional 4 academic years of study) I'll still be throwing my hat in to the political squared circle. The High Gamma, or Secretary, was one of my first elected positions when I joined the Fraternity in my first year, and it's always been one of my favorites. Though it mostly involves completing the necessary paperwork required to keep the Chapter from getting in hot water with International Headquarters, I can use it as a tool to appease that part of my psyche which demands orderliness and completeness - though a rather small part it may be.
And quite frankly, the campaign slogan was just too good to pass up!
Currently listening to: Three Days Grace - Home
Though I'm no longer an Active Member, and more like an Alumni (who just hasn't happened to graduate in the traditional 4 academic years of study) I'll still be throwing my hat in to the political squared circle. The High Gamma, or Secretary, was one of my first elected positions when I joined the Fraternity in my first year, and it's always been one of my favorites. Though it mostly involves completing the necessary paperwork required to keep the Chapter from getting in hot water with International Headquarters, I can use it as a tool to appease that part of my psyche which demands orderliness and completeness - though a rather small part it may be.
And quite frankly, the campaign slogan was just too good to pass up!
Currently listening to: Three Days Grace - Home
Wednesday, January 14, 2004
On the Brink
True to my previous post, I did go out of my way to watch Star Trek II - The Wrath of Khan, and it's an even finer movie than I remembered. Circumventing the need to pay actual money to watch it, I was quick to do a search on Kazaa, and within moments, started downloading the Sci-Fi masterpiece.
But the greatness of this movie is not what has inspired me to write this evening, though I'm sure I could captivate you for hours with tales of suspense and intrigue relating to those 112 minutes of sheer bliss. No, my friends, I'm writing to draw your attention towards something even more profound - gentlemen, Mother Nature is trying to kill us off.
Seriously.
I'm not kidding.
Just yesterday a good friend of mine reported the good news that her sister had gone in to labor and brought another bundle of joy, another miracle, in to this world. Even before asking the question, I seemed to know the answer, but I asked anyway, "So, is it a girl or a boy?" Well, wouldn't you know it, it was a girl. A beautiful baby girl. And the world is a better place for it.
But it made me think about my own family. I'm the sole male heir to carry on the Skinner family name, and between my two sisters, they've had 4 girls and 1 boy. If I extend my family to relatives and their children, the boys are outnumbered nearly 3 - 1. This isn't just some simple family genealogical quirk, my friends, this is very real. It only fuelled my biological paranoia when I read Stupid White Men by Michael Moore and he brought up the same scenario, with the estimated statistic that the world's population is approaching 52% female, and 48% male.
Men, obviously not the most intelligent of the two sexes, have managed to systematically render ourselves obsolete. For eons we had two things women didn't have that made us a necessity: (1) we provided the sperm to keep the species going, and (2) we were able to reach and get whatever they needed off the top shelf. That's about it. Then, then we go and invent in vitro fertilization, and there's even work being done to use DNA (no sperm necessary!) to propagate the species. The other invention that did the male population in was the stepladder. The portable, easy-to-carry aluminum stepladder, to be precise. Who was the bastard that came up with that bright idea? Now what possible excuse can we have for sticking around?
Nature has a way of getting rid of its weakest links, those that no longer serve a useful purpose, the dead weight. That, my brothers, is us.
But hey, we've had one helluva run, haven't we?
Currently listening to: Radiohead - 2 + 2 = 5
But the greatness of this movie is not what has inspired me to write this evening, though I'm sure I could captivate you for hours with tales of suspense and intrigue relating to those 112 minutes of sheer bliss. No, my friends, I'm writing to draw your attention towards something even more profound - gentlemen, Mother Nature is trying to kill us off.
Seriously.
I'm not kidding.
Just yesterday a good friend of mine reported the good news that her sister had gone in to labor and brought another bundle of joy, another miracle, in to this world. Even before asking the question, I seemed to know the answer, but I asked anyway, "So, is it a girl or a boy?" Well, wouldn't you know it, it was a girl. A beautiful baby girl. And the world is a better place for it.
But it made me think about my own family. I'm the sole male heir to carry on the Skinner family name, and between my two sisters, they've had 4 girls and 1 boy. If I extend my family to relatives and their children, the boys are outnumbered nearly 3 - 1. This isn't just some simple family genealogical quirk, my friends, this is very real. It only fuelled my biological paranoia when I read Stupid White Men by Michael Moore and he brought up the same scenario, with the estimated statistic that the world's population is approaching 52% female, and 48% male.
Men, obviously not the most intelligent of the two sexes, have managed to systematically render ourselves obsolete. For eons we had two things women didn't have that made us a necessity: (1) we provided the sperm to keep the species going, and (2) we were able to reach and get whatever they needed off the top shelf. That's about it. Then, then we go and invent in vitro fertilization, and there's even work being done to use DNA (no sperm necessary!) to propagate the species. The other invention that did the male population in was the stepladder. The portable, easy-to-carry aluminum stepladder, to be precise. Who was the bastard that came up with that bright idea? Now what possible excuse can we have for sticking around?
Nature has a way of getting rid of its weakest links, those that no longer serve a useful purpose, the dead weight. That, my brothers, is us.
But hey, we've had one helluva run, haven't we?
Currently listening to: Radiohead - 2 + 2 = 5
Tuesday, January 13, 2004
Jump! Enmitying Jump!
cruising along at an expert pace stop 42% finished Prince of Persia stop haven't blinked in quite a while stop maybe I should get some rest stop maybe after I hit 50% stop maybe stop probably not stop end transmission
Currently listening to: Foo Fighters - All My Life
Currently listening to: Foo Fighters - All My Life
Monday, January 12, 2004
"Khaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnn!"
Now, I'm not going to deny the fact that I spent a great deal of my early teenage life involved in Star Trek, whether it was catching every episode of the original series or The Next Generation, or even dedicating countless hours meticulously painting every single window on my Enterprise NCC 1701-D model, but I simply can't get enough of Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan.
In fact, this movie is so good that it doesn't require any previous knowledge of the Star Trek universe - it stands alone as a complete movie, with all the drama, suspense, and action you could ever hope for. In fact, when Spock makes the very Vulcan decision to sacrifice his own life, near the end of the movie to save those of the crew, you can't be faulted for shedding a tear or two. It's a nostalgic moment that ranks right up there with E.T. dying or Optimus Prime passing on the Matrix of Leadership.
Just thinking about it gets me all worked up - in fact, I think I'm gonna head on down to Rogers Video, open an account, and rent it for this evening's festivities. Lord knows I can't go anywhere near Blockbuster Video...
Currently listening to: The Edmonton Oilers winning 4-2 on 630 CHED
In fact, this movie is so good that it doesn't require any previous knowledge of the Star Trek universe - it stands alone as a complete movie, with all the drama, suspense, and action you could ever hope for. In fact, when Spock makes the very Vulcan decision to sacrifice his own life, near the end of the movie to save those of the crew, you can't be faulted for shedding a tear or two. It's a nostalgic moment that ranks right up there with E.T. dying or Optimus Prime passing on the Matrix of Leadership.
Just thinking about it gets me all worked up - in fact, I think I'm gonna head on down to Rogers Video, open an account, and rent it for this evening's festivities. Lord knows I can't go anywhere near Blockbuster Video...
Currently listening to: The Edmonton Oilers winning 4-2 on 630 CHED
Friday, January 09, 2004
Piss and Vigor
There's nothing finer than waking up, after a few days of struggling to fend off a persistent cold virus, with a nose that isn't completely plugged, and a mouth which isn't as dry as the almighty Sahara. I could assume I would have gotten over this much sooner if I'd actually taken care of myself - you know, instead of going out to drink with the boys, instead of getting not nearly enough sleep, and instead of not eating anything nutritious, but who's to say? Of course, I'm really just a big baby when it comes to even the simplest of illnesses, so I guess there's no reason to brag about overcoming a few days of sniffles...
Now that the mental clouds have begun to lift after a few days of Tylenol Cold induced stupors, I look forward to keeping this site up-to-date with all sorts of stories of villainy and intrigue.
Currently: Reading "Stupid White Men" by Michael Moore
Now that the mental clouds have begun to lift after a few days of Tylenol Cold induced stupors, I look forward to keeping this site up-to-date with all sorts of stories of villainy and intrigue.
Currently: Reading "Stupid White Men" by Michael Moore
Tuesday, January 06, 2004
Wink, Wink...Nudge, Nudge
It's that time of year again, when romance is in the air and a young man's fancy turns to, well, the sheep being held firmly in place with homemade velcro gloves.
Point is, it's Initiations all this week at the good ol' Lambda Chi Alpha house, and I'll be super busy until they're over. In fact, I'll probably be too busy to blog...except, well, you know...this one.
Currently listening to: Alarm clock going off every 9 minutes in the other room
Point is, it's Initiations all this week at the good ol' Lambda Chi Alpha house, and I'll be super busy until they're over. In fact, I'll probably be too busy to blog...except, well, you know...this one.
Currently listening to: Alarm clock going off every 9 minutes in the other room
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