I know this is only my second quarter of college, but I'm beginning to think it's, like, required to take one long, miserably boring lecture, designed solely for perusing Facebook and playing online Scrabble. I'm in that class right now, but I have Leah on Skype and Passion tea in my left hand, so the PowerPoints about recessive genes aren't fazing me much.
School life is kind of slow and lazy lately. The foot of snow that covered every surface when we came back from Christmas break is now long gone, and it's been replaced by cold rain. My group of friends has been spending more time inside, and Roomie and I have been eating nachos at a rather disgustingly rapid pace. (Okay, okay. My pace is rapid and disgusting. Hers is normal and polite, but I wanted to pass off a little bit of the blame.) Tonight, I think I'm getting together with my new friend, Aaron, with whom I made the Nickelback jokes, to study for a Linguistics test, and then going to see a performance by the improv troupe whose Thundercats reference last spring was the ultimate influence in my decision to attend OU. ...Or I'll be too cold and snuggled in my bed to bother walking uphill, and will end up watching 30 Rock all night. (A quote from last week: "Oh, we're going to have fun! We're going to stay here and eat nachos and see who can fall asleep the earliest!")
In other news, The Situation situation is incomprehensibly fantastic. He's positively brilliant--shockingly, even-- but he thinks I'm the smart one, and we're always teaching each other things. He's complicated, but understanding each other is so easy and natural. And... I'm going to stop gushing now, before you all vomit onto your keyboards. Just know that I'm deliciously, deliriously happy.
Speaking of delicious, delirious happiness (which is a phrase I stole blatantly and bluntly from Megan McCafferty), Perfect Fifths took place in "real time" on January 19, 2010. In celebration, I reread the portions of the book that are written in poetry and swooned and mooned. Many of my blog readers have messaged to tell me how much they adore the Jessica Darling series, so, once again, if you haven't read Sloppy Firsts by Megan McCafferty... do it. The first couple of books, while about a teenage girl, are jaw-droppingly smart, and the final book demonstrates what a masterpiece the whole series had managed to be, almost without your noticing. Trust me on this one. I'll leave you with a tiny sample of Senryu from the novel because, frankly, I cannot help myself.
XI. She writes
Stop, go, stop, go, stop
This train taunts and teases me
Just as you once did
XII. He writes
I like the way you
Fingertip-tap the paper
To count syllables
Sexy: Poetry. Not, like, rhyming "black" with "soul," but good poetry like John Donne and Shakespeare and Sharon Olds.
Unsexy: Eating butter.
Chipotle burritos this year: 2
Nail color: "Mango Mango," L'Oreal