So I checked the always entertaining Syed livejournal. Apparently the little shindig at Cheryl's got good reviews, despite the fact that it was the exact same thing Oakridge people always do when they get together. They bitched at Penton. They ate lots of random food. They watched a movie. They played truth or dare. When I read that they played truth or dare, I laughed. Hard.

I mean, we played truth or dare in like.. freshman year. Grow up already, you bunch of losers.

...and people wonder why I go to Lamar things when they coincide with Oakridge things. Bunch of losers.

</grumpyoldman>

So I get home and there's an IM window popped up from Francisco. Nice guy, just don't talk to him much. He finally realized that I'm a big fan of Mr. Boyd (yes, that was the correct answer to the quiz question) and apparently he is too.

Spread the love, children.

Go get the video, if you can find it, for the song mentioned above. Great, great video.

On the musical topic, does anyone know who does that song "Just Breathe" that's in that new Mitsubishi commercial? Prizes (not really) go to the first person to tell me who it is.

I decided to be sneaky and get my SAT scores back early.

1480.

I still don't know how I did that well.

Oh, I forgot to mention my absolutely hilarious story from visiting Habib over at UTD Friday night.

UTD people, for those not in the know, get a really good deal when it comes to housing: he has his own apartment. Two people get a two-bedroom apartment with private bathrooms and a huge common living space, and a nice balcony to boot. So Habib has a pretty nice setup in his room: a bed directly next to his computer, opposite of which is his guitar. Adorning the walls are Incubus posters, and pictures of his family line the top of his dresser.

This is where things get fun.

On the top of the dresser is a wallet-size picture of him sitting back-to-back with an unbelievably attractive brunette. "Dude," I exclaim, "who is this?" I feel proud of my buddy Habib; I didn't think he got chicks of the unbelievably-attractive-brunette kind.

"Dude," he replies, "that's my sister."

The Ring is seriously the single most disturbing thing I have ***ever*** seen.

If you're weak of heart, stomach, easily offended, have a heart condition, or pregnant, don't see this movie. Please.

If you ignore my advice and *do* see this very unpredictable, shocking masterpiece of a horror film, please don't talk to me about it as I'm trying to erase all these horrible images from my mind.

The "Klaus is on a RAMPAGE!" video has been topped with The Ring as the most shocking thing ever. At least Klaus was funny.

This just in: syed owns a cartel.

Stephen Hawking once said, "If time travel were possible, we'd be inundated with tourists from the future."

That pretty much settles it.

I love storytime.

That's the kind of knowledge I want to have - I'm sick of learning useless stuff out of books. I want to be a storyteller instead, the kind who tells the lesser-known details of history because one figure's personality quirks have no effect on the 1830s national economy, and that's the stuff that sells textbooks. I want to tell my kids about how no Nobel Peace Prize was awarded in 1948 because Mohandas Gandhi was assassinated. I don't care if they learn about 19th century monetary policy like I was forced to.

I wish there was a story for me to tell right now. It would be fun. Be sure to check the box up in the corner; I finally got around to putting something in there.

Update: I just realized I've been misspelling Dzihan & Kamien for a very long time. Apologies to those wonderful minimalist composers.

Man, oh man, am I tired.

But hey, it's fall! I love it when you walk outside on a cold (but not painfully so) night and the clouds are lit up by the moon. What's even better is driving through that, and that's made yet still better by driving in a car with a sunroof. Don't have it open, because it's too cold, but just so you can see the sky if you look up.

But fall is my favorite time of the year. Why, blake, why?! It's because, by January, the cold nights get old because you're wasting all of your life away slaving over some books while trying not to look outside your window and get some kind of inspiration to do something wonderful, something enlightening, something refreshing. Because that wastes time.

Fall is great because of anticipation. You walk outside on a cold night and think about what's coming: the holidays. For me, it means more of those beautiful cold nights accented by my birthday, staying up until 3am every night on christmas break, and the thanksgiving lan party - a tradition that maybe, just maybe, will survive in the future. It hurts to think that this year's could be the last one. I'm one of the lucky few that has something new to look to - something like lounging by the fire with a girl in one arm and a stuffed toy football in the other which I'm occasionally using to bash her while the football game marches on on TV.

Do I know any of that's going to happen? No. But it's great to think about it. The thought of lounging by the fire or fighting off the cold, waiting to line up the perfect shot in a tense shooter game, or getting a UT sweater for christmas. It's wonderful; it's enlightening; it's refreshing.

That's why I love fall.

Going into livejournal mode again. LJ mode, for the uninitiated, is when I ramble on several completely unrelated topics in search of a mere nugget of wisdom, much like, you guessed it, a LiveJournal.

Ugh. Teenage drama.

I just got into yet another fight with a girl over absolutely friggin' nothing. Why can't everyone be a good communicator? If there were a required class in high school about interpersonal communication and compromise, we'd all be far better off. I've already got that part covered, I think, so I'd test out and go straight into Mellowing the Hell Out class.

So I'm trying to mellow while everyone else enjoys their 4-day weekend. I knew the bad timing of the school holidays would suck, but I didn't think it would be this bad. I've got some good music going, talking to my more reassuring friends, about to go play my new addiction (Unreal Tournament 2003, it's greatness), and probably going to bed early tonight.

I hope I wake up happy in the morning. I guess that'll happen if I'm able to fall asleep tonight.

Mom: "Let's get this room cleaned up, shall we?"
Me: "No. Go away."

Thankfully, syed's journal has once again picked up steam now that the school year's in full swing. Very good entertainment, very hilarious photoshop work (enormous peter head = comedy GOLD), and the not-so-bad brainwashing that emily really is an attractive chick. Congratulations, em, you have fans.

Today was a day of several interesting thoughts.

1. I've reverted back to my fanboy-ism of BMWs. I want one. I'm spoiled, yes. Once my second Camry of Serious Hard-Core Action dies (the silver one with the spoiler and cool wheels), I'm going to get myself a used new-generation 7 series. They're just friggin' cool cars, and hell, if there's one out there that survives until I wear out my car-to-be, it's probably worthy of a few more years.

2. Finished the bulk of the work on my Plan2 application. The next week goes to making sure that all the bells and whistles are properly attached and in the mailbox. For some strange reason today I was reminded of Dr. Woodruff, the fella in charge of P2. I've met him twice, once at my P2 visit (he was the teacher) and again at the Honors Colloquium (greetz to all those 2 wonderful kids who still check this thing). Perhaps I got to thinking of him because in the two hours that I've talked to the guy, he's already better than the vast majority of the teachers I've had at Oakridge, and I won't mention any names such as the entire Tollison family who all need to have starving Ethiopians thrown at them for hours on end to remind them what happens because of evil people like them.

But that's neither here nor there.

Woodruff, anyway, is a real nice guy. Oh yeah! I remembered him because of his little P2 rant at the College of Liberal Arts (from here on out, CoLA) lunch and he did this very silly one-man dialogue between a kid and his dad, and he kept loosening and tightening his necktie to symbolize each, respectively. He's the ideal kind of professor for a goofball like me: you think he looks really screwy at first glance, and then you're sure that he's screwy when he speaks only a couple words at a time. Then it hits you: the guy is a walking sense of humor, he's a very calculating speaker (as any philosopher should be), and he's a damned genius to boot.

Strange that he's been one of my strongest pulls to Plan2 (just academically speaking, I've got millions of reasons to go to Austin and P2's one of 'em), but I'm amazed at how often my intuition is right about these things.

3. Homecoming. My memory-loss issues are starting to show: I completely forgot that my date is working until Friday evening. I, being the friggin' genius I am, also agreed to contribute to singing the national anthem. SO, instead of taking that very cute girl to a nice dinner and then being smoove and singing, I get to sing, then promptly leave the game to go get her and then bring her back. Fun stuff, congratulations to The Real World� and School� for owning the shit out of both me and Stephanie.

Blink's "Please Take Me Home" just came on. I want to go home.

</livejournal>