My Foot is in the Door (And Other Thoughts)

And just like that, my last few weeks of school have arrived yet again. Strange how paradoxical time seems; on one hand it seems like only yesterday that I was graduating high school, yet on the other hand, I feel like so much has changed within myself and in my life that my old life seems an eternity ago. But I'm trucking on, because I know that getting a good ejookayshun is in mai best inturests.

But I've been neglecting the blog, and that just ain't good of me. My thoughts this month have been pretty scattered, and I guess it's just the stress of upcoming finals and projects and junk. But I'm enjoying school otherwise; it's Spring Fest here, which means that the whole school is being super-extra tight about underage drinking, to the point where all the doors are locked except for the main entrance, which is constantly being monitored by RAs (who have brilliantly set up a TV and what I think is a Wii and an XBox 360 to pass the time while they're sitting doing nothing).

There was a concert last night that they have every semester called "Jam for the Lamb," and, while I neglected to go last semester, I went this time. My props go out to all those people for having the guts to go out on stage and perform, but I really didn't see any rock and roll happening up there. My roommate told me that the last semester one rocked, but this one, we both agreed, was just not rockin'. I saw progressive jazz, Spanish folk songs, generic Christian music, and one bizarre-yet-slightly-endearing techno remix of Mumford & Son's "The Cave," but no rock. 

Next semester, I'm bringing some rock and roll to this place. And once again, sorry for the lack of updates on this thing, it's been a crazy month.

No Rest for the Weary

As much as laying around and doing absolutely nothing for hours on end may appeal to people, I honestly don't like sleeping all that much. Maybe it's just because I can never make myself fall asleep easily, and once I'm asleep, I can't make myself wake up easily. It's like my body always wants to be in one state or the other; the transition is one of the suckiest experiences that I have to go through on a daily basis. Twice.

I recall reading a book a long ways back (like, high school or even middle school) called Black. I don't recall the story that well, because I wasn't that enamored with it (even though a bunch of people kept telling me it was amazing and mind-blowing), but one of the mechanics of the plot stuck with me, and I really thought it was an interesting concept. Every time the main character went to sleep, he went to another world, and once fell asleep in that world, he would return to the regular world.

I really wish I could do that. I feel like so much of my time is wasted when I go to sleep, and I always wish I could be doing something more productive, like writing music or working on my story, or getting better and French and German, or playing guitar. Anything seems better than sleep to me, but I know that I need to sleep to do anything of those things proficiently. Ahhh, if only we could live in storybook worlds...

Growing Up.

Milk.

So it's a really nice day today, and after having some spectacular dreams I'm in a kind of strange mood. You know, the one where you don't want to do anything and because you're not in school you don't have to? Yeah, hell yeah.

It's now 2:00 in the afternoon. Time for some breakfast.

Unfortunately today I find that I am out of milk, and not only is milk probably the most important thing in my fridge aside of the whiskey. Which unfortunately, I can't eat a bowl of cereal with whiskey. Well... actually I probably could but afterwards I would then be very drunk and my cereal would not have been fulfilling (because whiskey flavored cereal doesn't sound so good to me). Anyway so it's a beautiful day and I'm just pumped as hell to walk to the gas station to get my damn milk. So I get strapped up and start walking.

(Now it's important to remember that there is a point to all this.)

What I did not realize about this beautiful day is that is was in fact:

WINDY

AS

A

MOTHERFUCKER.

It was when I was walking to the gas station that I decided to hum a Lightspeed song in my head, until I started thinking about this commercial about some credit card or something. Either way it was interesting because this woman talking about some sort of future credit card apocalypse was a stunt man. Or stunt "woman" I should say. To this, I realized, Damn. This chick has got to have big hairy balls. Kind of depressing, this thought. Because now I don't feel like so much of a man myself because this girl is running around on fire! (Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.)

So now I'm at the gas station and I got the milk. I only have 4 dollars. This milk is $3.48. Now, I haven't been an adult that long, so even though I've known how to do the dishes, vacuum, and the laundry, I still forget how to do things like math, bank stuff, basically just math, and that food doesn't get taxed. Like milk. So even though the whole time I was thinking it's okay because tax is 7 cents a dollar and so I would be fine, but still freaking out, it turned out I had to pay $3.48. That's 52 cents in my pocket. (Also just a side note: they have this new thing at gas stations (apart from televisions at the pump) that essentially is a small bowl that all of your change rolls out into for you to grab. So people now don't have to hand you change back. America just got lazier.)

Okay I think that whole change thing was the point but one more thing I need to mention. As I was walking home with my gallon of milk and I saw a couple walking towards me from Quizno's Sub, and I raised my hand for a wave, and said, "Good aft- mor-" As I stopped trying to think of which one I should say, I realized...

What time was it???

So remember kids, you can pay for milk in exact change and check the time twice when you get up. Then check the time again.