Buffalo Springfield - "Nowadays Clancy"
Suitemate Hasan is keeping weird hours. I woke up at 6:30 this morning to go to the bathroom just as he was arriving back. Except I have a feeling that he was just awake all night in the dorm, shuttling back and forth between the room and somewhere else (any room that was misguided enough to give him alcohol, perhaps). Maybe he was up writing his holy book (Hasan, he tells us, is creating his own religion).
Last night was a bust. Zoolander started it off well, but maybe it caused us to peak too early. Ris never came down to campus, and we were planning on going swing dancing. Then we tried going bowling at Lucky Strike for a while.
Warning: Objects in pictures may be having less fun than they appear. There was a lovely snowfall outside, though, and Julia and I enjoyed writing on cars parked on the street until our fingers got cold. After about two cars.
Went to see Margaret Cho last night. Very funny in many parts, but ultimately, all of her politics rubbed us the wrong way. Not that I disagreed with anything she had to say, but sometimes her attempts to integrate politics and humor failed. Making fun of Republicans is a very subtle art, and jokes like "Karl Rove is pushing abstinence education because you know he could never get any!" don't instill pride in the liberal cause for me. Rita has provided a pretty comprehensive description of the show, although I wasn't as offended as she was. I think I kind of saw it coming. Anyway, you UGA people have to go to her
show, because I'm dying to know how a Georgia audience reacts to her stuff.
Afterwards, Julia and I refused to succumb to anti-socialness within the yellow bowels of Max Palevsky, so on a whim and a flyer we attended the UC Party for Howard Dean at some apartment on 54th. Initially, we left because we didn't want to ring the buzzer, but then we turned around and hung on the coattails of another group. I have a hard time describing the party; there were only about a dozen or more people there, mostly UC Democrats I think, all dressed very conservatively, drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade and chocolate chip cookies and shuffling through Dean propoganda and flyers. We talked with a charming second-year girl and a weird fourth-year guy who had been suspiciously kicked out of Maclean, and we talked about... well... the Democratic candidates. I wish I had something I could make fun of, but honestly, they were all really nice people. I'm glad we went and overcame the lethargy that is plaguing our house.
Then when I got back, I got a call from Kristen which completely turned my weekend around, even though she was pretty unhappy with her first college road trip. And then I found a letter from her in my mailbox this morning and read it over breakfast, which made everything just taste better. Apparently, she was called emo this week. Now we've both been wrongfully accused. Sigh. I miss her already.
This SNL book is terribly, terribly addicting. There's a segment where people are talking about the blues bar where the original cast hung out after the shows on Saturday night, trying to shake off their performace high. It made me regret auditioning this quarter a little bit, but mostly it made me long for Black Comedy. I always felt really good after those shows; I imagine we all did.
Suitemate Hasan is keeping weird hours. I woke up at 6:30 this morning to go to the bathroom just as he was arriving back. Except I have a feeling that he was just awake all night in the dorm, shuttling back and forth between the room and somewhere else (any room that was misguided enough to give him alcohol, perhaps). Maybe he was up writing his holy book (Hasan, he tells us, is creating his own religion).
Last night was a bust. Zoolander started it off well, but maybe it caused us to peak too early. Ris never came down to campus, and we were planning on going swing dancing. Then we tried going bowling at Lucky Strike for a while.
Warning: Objects in pictures may be having less fun than they appear. There was a lovely snowfall outside, though, and Julia and I enjoyed writing on cars parked on the street until our fingers got cold. After about two cars.
Went to see Margaret Cho last night. Very funny in many parts, but ultimately, all of her politics rubbed us the wrong way. Not that I disagreed with anything she had to say, but sometimes her attempts to integrate politics and humor failed. Making fun of Republicans is a very subtle art, and jokes like "Karl Rove is pushing abstinence education because you know he could never get any!" don't instill pride in the liberal cause for me. Rita has provided a pretty comprehensive description of the show, although I wasn't as offended as she was. I think I kind of saw it coming. Anyway, you UGA people have to go to her
show, because I'm dying to know how a Georgia audience reacts to her stuff.
Afterwards, Julia and I refused to succumb to anti-socialness within the yellow bowels of Max Palevsky, so on a whim and a flyer we attended the UC Party for Howard Dean at some apartment on 54th. Initially, we left because we didn't want to ring the buzzer, but then we turned around and hung on the coattails of another group. I have a hard time describing the party; there were only about a dozen or more people there, mostly UC Democrats I think, all dressed very conservatively, drinking Mike's Hard Lemonade and chocolate chip cookies and shuffling through Dean propoganda and flyers. We talked with a charming second-year girl and a weird fourth-year guy who had been suspiciously kicked out of Maclean, and we talked about... well... the Democratic candidates. I wish I had something I could make fun of, but honestly, they were all really nice people. I'm glad we went and overcame the lethargy that is plaguing our house.
Then when I got back, I got a call from Kristen which completely turned my weekend around, even though she was pretty unhappy with her first college road trip. And then I found a letter from her in my mailbox this morning and read it over breakfast, which made everything just taste better. Apparently, she was called emo this week. Now we've both been wrongfully accused. Sigh. I miss her already.
This SNL book is terribly, terribly addicting. There's a segment where people are talking about the blues bar where the original cast hung out after the shows on Saturday night, trying to shake off their performace high. It made me regret auditioning this quarter a little bit, but mostly it made me long for Black Comedy. I always felt really good after those shows; I imagine we all did.
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