Saturday, August 27, 2011

Furiously happy.

I'm having a pretty great weekend considering I've had a headache since 7 PM on Wednesday and despite my truck's radiator springing a leak last night somewhere between merging onto the 202 and pulling in at my house, where it proceeded to hiss and exude the sickly, sweet scent of antifreeze, making it necessary for my dad to drive me to my one class today, which was so short that it wasn't worth him driving home and then coming back to pick me up, which meant he had to find something to do while I discussed Latin deponent verbs, and he didn't really need to have an excuse to go in search of ice cream. Actually, none of this is really bumming me out. Sure, I'm worried about my truck the way a mother would be worried about a kid down with the flu, but my dad is the Dr. Gregory House of cars, so I'm not really that worried.

My headache and my truck kind of joined forces to convince me going out with my friends today was a bad idea. Initially, we had plans to go to Jester'Z Improv, but then those plans got extended into watch a movie, then go to Organ Stop, then go swing dancing, and then go to Jester'Z. Upon seeing the Revised Plans Facebook Thread, which quickly got wildly out of hand and off topic, my headache started tsk-ing and calling attention to just how wiped out I was from the week. Despite my friends' creative efforts and extensive strategizing on how to get me around to all of these activities (strategizing which actually didn't make complete sense in the end, as it was extremely unclear to me when or how they meant to convey me home), everything in and around me was saying, "Look, there is no way you are making it through a straight nine-odd hours of exuberant activity tomorrow. We're putting our foot down on this one." Who was I to argue once biology and the internal combustion engine had spoken?

I say today, but I'm never really sure whether to call it Friday or Saturday or Mavis the Dancing Cow once the clock has rolled past midnight. I generally run with the idea that it's not tomorrow until I've had a reasonably amount of contiguous sleep, and it's bright outside again. I mean, really. What crazed scientist decided that the day should roll over in the middle of the night instead of at dawn? It's not natural. I think things like this should be governed by natural cycles. When the sun comes up, that's a new day. Oo! Oo! Point of peevishness: Why did they decide to move the beginning of the calendar year to a random day that doesn't coincide with anything? It used to coincide with the beginning of spring, which totally makes sense. Why wouldn't the year start at the beginning of a season? I don't even really care which season. Yeah, spring has that whole rebirth and renewal thing going for it, but the first day of any season would be better than random January 1st. If they were going to move it to winter, couldn't they at least have set it to the solstice? And least that's a natural marker of time. The Chinese know what's up. They've got that lunar calendar going on, which is another method which makes much more sense to me than whatever this is that we're going by.

Anyway, it was actually a good thing that I didn't go out today, for a reason other than because all of nature was crying out against it. It was my dad's girlfriend's daughter's birthday, which meant dinner at Ah-So. I'm seven sorts of okay with that. I also won't complain about the Italian cream cake we had afterward. I might, however, complain about how full I still feel, despite having brought this upon myself and therefore really having no right to complain.

None of this actually has anything to do with why I'm blogging tonight. I'm blogging tonight because I've been catching up on reading posts by The Bloggess, and I felt the impetus to share her genius with you. Which is just another way of saying that one can only post so many links to Facebook in one night before the situation crosses over into the ludicrous. She's just too darn funny. I can't help it. I've been laughing uproariously for the past three hours. You know how there are different levels of laughter? This is the voiceless, I've-never-smiled-so-big-in-my-life laughter, which is just a step down from can't-breathe, going-to-die laughter. The latter can only be maintained for a short period of time, which is probably why we've haven't quite gotten there yet. That, and it's hard to read when all of your energy is being diverted into making sure you don't pass out from lack of oxygen.

My bad about all of the relative and subordinate clauses tonight.

One last thing ere you go. I listened to "Airplanes" umpteen times on YouTube today, so I figured it was a sign when it came on the radio while I was in the bathroom at Ah-So. What it was a sign of is beyond me, but that's neither here nor there. Have some artistic social commentary.

Listening to: "Airplanes" by B.o.B ft. Hayley Williams
Reading: Harry Potter y la cámara secreta por J. K. Rowling

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