In Which Talking Doors, Television Obsessions, and Baseball are discussed.

Today was a weird day for me, which is most probably attributable to the fact that I haven't slept very much these past few days. Why, you ask? When I get into something I seem to get maybe a bit too into it (although maybe not vasectomy-level into it, nudge nudge.) So this past Friday afternoon, finding myself bored since most of my friends had high-tailed it back home for the weekend, I randomly happened to watch the first episode of Heroes which I'd been meaning to do for a while. By Saturday night I finished all 16 hours of the first season. That show, idunno...there were times when it bordered on stupid and ridiculous, but I just laughed when that happened and somehow it managed to pull it all together in a way that the writers of Lost would, or should, envy. Yeah I watch too much TV. But back to today: maybe it's the lack of sleep, but I swear, there is a heavy swinging door here which, when opened, sounds exactly like an atomic bomb going off in those old black and white reels. I walked through this door and then I began to realize that other doors on campus make obscure noises also. For instance, a door that sounds just like a cat's meow. (On a side note, a cat once slept on my face. Just thought I'd put that out there.) This got me thinking -- what if there were houses whose doors were picked purely for the sounds they made? Is it possible to have a themed-door house that makes you think you've stepped into a rainforest every time you open a door? Sleep deprivation or architectural genius?

Breakfast: I grabbed a bottle of Orange Soda on the way to class. I do I do I doohoo!

Lunch: The usual tuna-melt-french-fries-newspaper combo.

Dinner: I wanted to double whamitize dinner by eating while watching House, but no! baseball had to steal my precious weekly doctor visit. Who the hell cares about baseball anymore besides steroid dealers and a certain person on this blog anyway?! So I had to eat my microwaved Mac n' Cheese in my room, on the floor, by myself, with nothing to do but wallow in the misery of the fact that I had to use a spoon and not a fork. Damn baseball. And yes, baseball did all that.


P.S. I just found out that there's going to be a showing of The Darjeeling Limited and a Q&A with Wes Anderson and Jason Schwartzman in D.C. this Friday. If there's any sort of god-like thing in this world, someone will want to give me a ride there from Baltimore. Any takers?