Jazz

Yeah, I know it's been awhile. Bite me. Finals week is coming up and I'm fading fast. And by fading fast I mean I have zero motivation...The only way that I can get stuff done is turning up my "Classical for Studying" station on Pandora and thinking about how much it would suck to fail any of my classes. It usually does the trick (for awhile, anyways). It doesn't help that my roommates have recently decided to start watching Psych from the beginning, so we're on season one. Party hardy. I would much rather be watching Psych than doing anything for anything of my classes, true story. Last night we watched the one where Shawn pretends to be a worker at the space museum and introduces himself as "Aurora Borealis". It's a good one, look it up.

You know that's right.

Annoying roommate update: She has decided that Psych is an appropriate show for her to watch (??? Or maybe she ran out of MASH episodes...?) Either way, now she sits out with us and watches it. And her giggle annoys me to no end. Am I a terrible person? It's possible. But trust me. It is one of the most annoying sounds you will ever hear. I personally guarantee it. Also: She walks into the kitchen last week and announces "I'm going into town, does anybody need anything?" Into town? We live in a town. It's not like we live in some forsaken wilderness in the middle of South Dakota or something. It felt like I'd just walked into an episode of Little House on the Prairie. "Oh Charles, next time you go into town, would you mind picking up some molasses, we're out. Oh, and also some calico so I can sew Laura a new dress. And also five pounds of flour." (cue hokey fiddling music...) Good grief.

(Oh, in case you were wonding, I guess "town" means "mall" in her weird language, because she came back with a bag from JC Penney...what was inside? It's yet to be determined.)

*sigh* Happy thoughts....Well, I got to go to our university's premiere jazz band tonight, and it was amazing. I forgot how much I love jazz music. I love it. Especially live, though. I have a hard time listening to jazz music that's been recorded because the same feeling just isn't there: the excitement, the improv, the crazy solos, the competition between soloists...Good stuff. 

Later,

K