Oh, right, LJ
It's funny that I neglect my Facebook more than I neglect my LJ, because whoa, teh neglect of mine LJ! Well, not funny ha ha. Okay, it's not funny at all. Jeez, tough room.
I would dearly like to call this summer a "journey of self-discovery", but I think a "journey of re-discovering shit I already knew about myself" would probably be a more apt title. Like, I get antsy when I don't have anything to do. No school + no job makes Jack a dull boy. SERIOUSLY. I have a prospective job, though. So maybe my time in the doldrums will be at an end.
My journey really picked up last weekend, however, when I attended the four day outdoor music festival known as Bonnaroo with my older sister and her two roommates (who are totally kick-ass). Here are a few of the things I learned/already knew:
-Live music is awesome.
-I hate reggae (sorry Bob Marley).
-As much as the last few Weezer albums have sucked, they still kind of rock. Mostly when they are playing stuff from Blue and Pinkerton.
-Applying sunscreen to your own back is hard.
-Conan O'Brian is hilarious.
-The sun and I are sworn enemies.
-Indoor plumbing is quite possibly the greatest thing in the world. Air conditioning is a close second.
-Tenacious D is funny as well as musically brilliant.
-The Kings of Leon sex is most certainly not on fire.
All in all, it was a pretty fun trip. I'm not sure if I would ever go again, though, since I don't think the price of admission is worth "camping"* out in a field with 500 or so people (per campsite, there were about 100,000 people there total) and not showering. I paid $10 for a shower on the third morning of our stay, and although the pipes were drawing directly from a well and standing under the icy spray was akin to getting punched in the chest, it was still worth every penny.
*I say "camping" because I am not sure I consider pitching a tent in the middle of a field and not being allowed to have an open flame necessarily qualifies. No shade under which to put my tent (oh, the sweltering mornings! Sleeping past sunrise was impossible), no nearby water source, no s'mores, no staring up at the stars (giant construction lights and the lights from the festival area made the night sky a cloudy gray). No, this was more a bastardization of camping, some unholy hybrid that has yet to be named.
Damn, I am chatty. I should focus this energy into fic. Or masters program applications. Possibly both.
I would dearly like to call this summer a "journey of self-discovery", but I think a "journey of re-discovering shit I already knew about myself" would probably be a more apt title. Like, I get antsy when I don't have anything to do. No school + no job makes Jack a dull boy. SERIOUSLY. I have a prospective job, though. So maybe my time in the doldrums will be at an end.
My journey really picked up last weekend, however, when I attended the four day outdoor music festival known as Bonnaroo with my older sister and her two roommates (who are totally kick-ass). Here are a few of the things I learned/already knew:
-Live music is awesome.
-I hate reggae (sorry Bob Marley).
-As much as the last few Weezer albums have sucked, they still kind of rock. Mostly when they are playing stuff from Blue and Pinkerton.
-Applying sunscreen to your own back is hard.
-Conan O'Brian is hilarious.
-The sun and I are sworn enemies.
-Indoor plumbing is quite possibly the greatest thing in the world. Air conditioning is a close second.
-Tenacious D is funny as well as musically brilliant.
-The Kings of Leon sex is most certainly not on fire.
All in all, it was a pretty fun trip. I'm not sure if I would ever go again, though, since I don't think the price of admission is worth "camping"* out in a field with 500 or so people (per campsite, there were about 100,000 people there total) and not showering. I paid $10 for a shower on the third morning of our stay, and although the pipes were drawing directly from a well and standing under the icy spray was akin to getting punched in the chest, it was still worth every penny.
*I say "camping" because I am not sure I consider pitching a tent in the middle of a field and not being allowed to have an open flame necessarily qualifies. No shade under which to put my tent (oh, the sweltering mornings! Sleeping past sunrise was impossible), no nearby water source, no s'mores, no staring up at the stars (giant construction lights and the lights from the festival area made the night sky a cloudy gray). No, this was more a bastardization of camping, some unholy hybrid that has yet to be named.
Damn, I am chatty. I should focus this energy into fic. Or masters program applications. Possibly both.