so to follow standard procedure: my thanksgiving was nice. ate lots. chilled lots with the family. went to the mall and marveled at the capitalistic machine in motion, haha.
it was slightly different than other thanksgiving's though, seeing as how my parents were not in town. they were actually in the jungles and mountains of Peru, so it was just my sisters and i that were home for the weekend. they're coming home today though, so we'll all see my parents before we go. don't fret.
i feel like time as a whole is undoubtedly moving faster as time itself progresses. kind of like an upward sloping exponential curve [kind of a 'J' like shape] (i'm a nerd, i know). in the past, i always felt like thanksgiving was about a month before the end of the semester; the perfectly timed break that let you take a breather just when school (or even life to some extent) had you on the brink of madness. . .
now, i feel like the semester is already over, and thanksgiving is merely stage one in my winter break. classes only have a a couple weeks left, and i think two weeks of classes feels much shorter now than it did a few years ago. this seems circular, but to quote musiq soulchild, the bottom line is that "time waits for nothin', and everything's gonna take its time."
that was ridiculous. i apologize.
on another note, why does the "holiday season" start so damn early these days? i swear, i see an ad for a "christmas in july sale" [in july, naturally], and a month later i'm seeing actual christmas decorations. and 100.3 WNIC? they've had christmas music going since halloween. 24/7 almost. now i love christmas music just as much as the next person, but to me, half of its appeal is that you only get that 3 week window to enjoy it. i guess that's being redefined too in our post-modern rediscovery of our collective self.
metrosexual. that doesn't have anything to do with anything, i just hadn't heard the word in a couple days and was experiencing withdrawal.
here i am, in my room, with the posters i have yet to put up since i moved in sitting in the corner. i've been meaning to finish that stuff up, but i just moved in, it takes a little while to get everything settled. . . .
then it hits me. i moved in almost two months ago! which makes me realize that senior year is going by faster than all three of its predecessors, which is not what i was expecting given my demanding course load of 11 whopping credits.
i've been planning to start preparing for LSATs since August. but it's ok, i still have a long time before December 6. i have . . . wait, only 6 weeks?!! and midterms are when? next week?! where has the time gone?!
i wonder if there is a word to describe the hazy thoughts and senseless mutterings that i have everyday while pressing the snooze button every eight minutes. . .
i hope i'm not alone in this experience, but every day, while my alarm clock is beeping away right when it should, i hit the snooze button within the first few seconds of hearing it. every time. without fail. while i do do this with hopes of gleaning just eight more solid minutes of sleep, this never really pans out.
see once my alarm has gone off, i'm never really awake, but i'm never really asleep either. i'm stuck in this in between stage where nothing makes sense and everything makes sense at the same time. i'm caught in between reality and dreamworld. real occurrences intertwine with dreamscapes but it always takes me awhile to figure it out.
i think there should be a word to describe this, in fact, there probably is . . . lil help?
you know what i absolutely love? driving around when the weather is nice and it's noon. yes, noon. the reason for noon you ask? simple, the "high noon hot mix" or whatever name each radio station gives to this phenomenon.
i don't know when it started or who started the trend, but the quick mix at noon is probably the greatest hour of radio ever. for those who aren't familiar, here's a quick run-down:
many radio stations, predominantly hip hop or top 40 stations, have one of their DJs (actual DJs, not the ones who talk about their children and their dog and layman's politics in the mornings) spin whatever they want for an hour every day at noon. now this is unique because the playlist is no longer inhibited by the constraints of popular culture, the billboard hot 100, or even the square executives in the boss's office.
for a pure hour each day, you can hear a good DJ spinning his [or her] favorite tracks and getting really really creative while doing it. the other day i heard billy squier's "the stroke" mixed in with 50 cent "magic stick." now if you've heard both of these songs, you're thinking: what?! and it definitely was weird, but somehow this DJ worked out a mix of 80s rock and 2003 pop hip hop . . . and it made it sound gooooood.
man i miss blogging, let's hope my internet doesn't kick out . . .
i went to a friend's house to chill tonight. as i pull into the driveway, i notice there are a bunch of cars already in the driveway. "oh, his dad must be having poker night," i naively think to myself . . .
i go inside and hear a pretty loud group of kids downstairs, it turns out that my friend's little brother (who is 17) was "having a few friends over" apparently. i wasn't born yesterday, i was in high school just three short years ago, so i'm definitely still down with the lingo, shit, i invented the lingo. actually i didn't, but i did revolutionize it [for details, direct inquiries to my parents]. . . for those who may not remember as well, i'll try to explain:
a high school guy stating he is "having a few friends over" more specifically means he is inviting a few of his boys and a few random hot girls over with hopes of convincing everyone to get in the hot tub. keep it real. . .
so moving on with the story, i enter my friend's house and see the aforementioned little brother with his aforementioned boys and aforementioned hot girls. here's where it got disturbing for me. these girls actually were hot, which didn't shock me, but i definitely was taken aback by their outfits.
even though i never thought i would harbor such an opinion, i found myself wondering, "is this how 17 year old girls today dress? my female friends sure as hell didn't dress like that when i was in high school." that's a frightening thought, and an even more frightening statement, mainly because i fear that detachment from the pulse of the youth is the first step in the long road towards senility . . . maybe it's not that dramatic, but it's disconcerting nonetheless.
than i realized to what this may be attributed. when i graduated from high school, the britney spears/christina aguilera phenomenon was really just gathering steam. in fact, it wasn't until my first week of college that britney had her famous strip-show performance at the VMAs. i never realized how much impact stars like her have on people around high school age. . . the fact that teen girls' wardrobes have so drastically evolved in the past 3 years illustrates this pretty vividly i suppose. . .
i don't think i have a point with this, but it's just something i found interesting. and no, i don't have a thing for high school girls for anyone who may be gettin' the wrong idea here.
i have officially decided that running water is infinitely more important to me than electricity. after only a little more than 24 hours without electricity, i must admit i was less than ecstatic when the power came back on without running water.
there was definitely a point where, when i wasn't sure when the water was coming back, i became very conscious of how much water i was using. i used melted ice from a drink someone had left out to wash my hands, purell was my new best friend, i took sips of bottled water every 1-2 hours . . .it was interesting.
the funniest part was that there was really no reason for me to be so cautious in rationing my use of virtually everything, but part of me wanted to see how disciplined i could be i suppose. . .
i think i did pretty well, except for the long-ass shower i took when we finally got our water back this morning. i'll tell you one thing: i'll never be caught without flashlights, batteries, bottled water, and other amenities again . . .
i think there's an unspoken language behind honking your horn in your car. now in any area where there's a lot of traffic, or even just a lot of cars (like a parking lot after a sporting event), you're bound to hear a million horns sounding seemingly in a haphazard pattern of lengths, frequencies, and intensities.
but when you think about it, you can really say a lot by merely sounding a monotone horn. it can be used to express a multitude of emotions or responses, from anger to salutations to menace . . . for example:
if you're pissed off cause someone just cut you off, you pound the horn, often for 2-3 seconds to effectively communicate your frustration and anger, at the same time telling them "there's nothing i can do about what you just did, except bitch about it to myself or my passenger, which is exactly what i'm doing right now punk" . . .honk
if you're stopped at a red light and you see someone you know in the car next to you or walking in front of you, you might tap the horn twice, so as to get their attention but not make others think you are angry or frustrated (as described above). "hey [friend], i can't really stop to talk to you because i'm in the middle of traffic, but i'm just saying hi . . . i'll probably call you on my cell phone right after this just to say 'hey, i see you! whats up?! k bye.' "
if you're waiting outside someone's house to pick them up, you might also give a double horn tap, but each tap is likely to be a little longer than the aforementioned attention-getter taps, so that whomever you are picking up will know you are waiting and that it was not merely some random person trying to say hello to a friend they saw on the street (again, as described above). "hey, i'm here, waiting for you . . .get your ass out here quick, i don't have all day."
and last, if you're weaving through traffic, and you are not sure if the biker or other car in front of you knows you are there, a quick single tap of the horn is the perfect signal of: "hey, i'm here, i'm not threatening you or pissed at you, i'm just lettin' you know i'm here . . . so don't change lanes, otherwise i will threaten and be pissed at you . . . "
quite a change from DC . . .just yesterday afternoon i returned from my fun-filled and work-filled internship summer in DC. overall a great experience, though it is weird to be back home.
today, i had quite the day in suburbia . . .
it started by me fixing up my room of course, since i had all my stuff from my place in DC to sort out and put back in its temporary place until i move it again when i leave for school in a few weeks. then i went to lunch with my parents, and took a quick tour of my dad's new office, which is opening in a few weeks (so if anyone is in need of an excellent pediatrician, let me know, i'll hook it up)
i then hit the real suburban meat of my day by going to the mall, getting my hair cut, buying some gel (or wax or pomade or fiber or whatever it's actually called), seeing 16 year old girls who dress like they're working the corner on 8 mile, missing the days of high school, getting a frappaccino (mocha coconut, if you must know), then going to blockbuster and renting a movie and buying starbursts. oh, and i went to the dry cleaners too. . .
as if living in a dungeon was not bad enough . . .
let me tell you what it feels like to have your hand bust through a glass window while trying to close and lock your broke-ass door that won't close or lock properly in your dingy-ass dungeon of an apartment (which you are paying an arm and a leg for, mind you) . . .
it sucks. a lot. and it hurts like hell.
i stood there for a second, in disbelief. i heard the window shatter and saw my hand go through it, and i definitely felt the pain as i instinctively pulled my hand back out, slicing it up nicely on its way out. . .but it did not quite hit me yet until i saw the puddle of blood start to collect on the ground . . .
ugh, i know this probably makes it sound a lot worse than it was, but still. it was not the most pleasant experience when you're already bitter about the freakin' dungeon you live in. ok, i'm gonna go change my bandages . . .
at least there's no stitches required. . . i don't think. mom, dad, and sis would've been proud by my first aid medical response . . .
