The Best Random Moment in a Very Long Time

So last week on Unofficial D Floor KoJa Day (the day when we all get KoJa for lunch, usually a Wednesday), Lex, David, and I were coming back to lab, Korean truck food in tow, when the most marvelous thing happened.

Coming out of a ratty-looking half-van half-truck, partially primered used-to-be-red vehicle of some sort driven by a generic 20something guy stopped at the light at 38th and Walnut at very loud volume was...the opening notes to the best driving song ever, Journey's "Don't Stop Believing." We looked at each other and said very loudly and in unison, voices filled with wonder, "oh my god - is that seriously 'Don't Stop Believing?'" Now, I want to make it clear that we were not about to ridicule. No, we were all totally gearing up to sing along, and so were the two random generic Penn girls a step behind us who had also recognized the glorious opening notes. However, the driver of the magical Journey-mobile looked over at us, embarrassed, and...changed the station. It was awful. We were stricken. He drove off, and the three of us, as well as the two random Penn girls were left bereft of our opportunity to belt out Journey along with a random car stereo on the sidewalk in front of that damn hideous Wharton building.

We were crushed. Totally obliterated. The random Penn girls tried to make up for our disappointment by singing it themselves, but it just wasn't the same.

I just want to say: if that random guy had left the Journey blaring for us, if he'd let us sing, if he'd maybe joined in himself, I totally would have married him. So random dude, if you're reading this (and past allegedly random dudes have found me, so I'm not just grasping at straws here), you should know: you totally lost out. Big time.

Here's to Romance

In the true spirit of Valentine's Day, I have decided to celebrate by...having a thesis committee meeting! Woo! See, it is like traditional VDay celebrations in that I'll be dressed up, stressed out, and have high expectations that wind up crushed and broken. Except this time, there will be no exotic waxing involved. And I'm sure there will still be crying, if only to keep with tradition.

Really, I don't have much cause to be down on the whole VDay thing. I've only had one on which I was single since I was 13 and that year I did the Vagina Monologues so I got to yell "CUNT!" at the top of my lungs in a very large auditorium, which was pretty fun. But yeah, the whole mess sucks. So I've decided to pre-empt the usual VDay suckage by having a committee meeting and a dance rehearsal and thus avoiding any of the horrible awkwardness that would somehow be involved otherwise. Because I like avoiding things.

Apparently, snow is cause to pre-empt Tim in this pathetic excuse for a northeastern city. Poo. I have windows, I don't need TV to tell me it is snowing. I do not, however, have the members of the House and Senate Intelligence committees at my apartment so I do need TV to learn their thoughts on warrantless domestic eavesdropping. Though if I did have them in my apartment, I bet I'd do naughty things to them. Like make them give up the franking system.

For the record: calling me a name that rhymes with my name is not actually calling me my name. There are only four letters, it isn't that hard.

Timwatch 1/29 and stuff

Tim had Bill Frist this past weekend, who is really really fidgety on camera. No wonder he hardly goes on this show - he is really awkward. I forgot that when I watch these things not alone I have to pretend that I'm trying to carry on an actual conversation rather than just yelling back at the TV. Life is really hard sometimes. Also, I must be becoming a better political masochist as I actually made it through the SOTU speech until about 9:20. Sometimes I think about leaving since I can't stand Smuggy McSmugface but since those damn Canadians have elected a Tory (to a minority, but still) where would I go? So I drown my troubles in Stoli, which seems to make the nights go faster.

So in a moment of silliness I joined the belly dancing troupe and we have a show coming up (and no, I'm NOT telling where/when it is). Most of the people are undergrads, which means they are really really young as I determine youth by "are you younger than my little sister?" Most of them can't drink legally. I feel old. But my abs are fantastic since I've had four practices a week. And I get to try and warn them away from graduate school, though I'm sure none of them will listen. I sure didn't listen to my wise elders when they told me how much grad school would suck.