...continuation from Yesterday...
So anyway, where we were, back to Asda...
So I load up about 6 bags worth of stuff that I absolutely needed and set off on my journey. Now, my parents will tell you that I can generally load myself down like a donkey, with 17 bags of groceries on each arm to bring them from the car into the house. Proof that I am truly mighty. Except for a little difference-- this wasn't the standard 25 feet from the car to the table inside, try about 2 miles worth of walking. Naturally, after the first 100 feet or so, I'm beginning to realize exactly how much of a bad idea this is. I manage to get back on the bus, then on the other bus (with a lot of strange stares from the locals about this guy with the wierd long hair, the big leather coat and the 6 stuffed Asda bags in the front seat). Then, the final leg, from the bus to my front door. It's a full half-mile, but with 6 bags strapped to your arms, it feels like about 12. So, I put on my mp3 player, turned up Tenacious D (the most hard-core album I own), and went to work.
By the time I got to my door, the album was done and I had left my arms halfway across campus. It's rather tough to sort out your things with bloody stumps, but, well, you do what you have to.
I had managed to get most everything on my list, with one notable blazing omission that sat at the bottom of my list, laughing at me.
[ ] FOOD.
So, the next day, I did it again. Only this time with 7 bags, full of food.
I hurt.
I need a shirpa. Or a burro.
7) I DO NOT HAVE A MULLET, GODDAMMIT!
There was Karaoke the other night, as sort of a "get to know people" activity within the Graduate school. I generally like Karaoke because, well, I've sung for so long that it's not a big deal for me. As I looked through the list, though, I realized that there were approximately 0 songs that I could sing well, just because they were too damned high. I am not a tenor. I never will be a tenor. Such is life. And most rock songs are sung by friggin tenors. Or countertenors. Grr. And as much as I would have liked to simply drop the octave, unfortunately that makes many of these songs sound really, really strange.
So, I picked out a song that I like that I thought (read, *thought*) wasn't too high, and went and sang it. And damn, was it high. Absolute tip top of my range. It sucked. But I did it, and I performed the hell out of it, so I'm hoping people didn't notice.
Afterwards, when I sat back down with the group I was sitting with (my flatmate Mark and a few absolutely gorgeous Greek girls-- one of whom is named Dhesbida (actually, it's more like Þesbida (for those of you who know IPA) or Δέσπίδά for those of you who know Greek). Apparantly, she says I'm the only foreigner who is able to accurately pronounce her name. :-)
So this other (also amazingly beautiful) girl-- (there's no shortage of them here) came up to me, brought by one of the other greeks at the table. The other greek, having forgotten my name, introduced me as "Mullet Man".
Now everyone, please say it with me, "I DO NOT HAVE A MULLET, GODDAMMIT!"
I didn't say that. I was very polite. Even pleasant. But I was thinking it really, really, really hard.
And if any of you are asking if this will convince me to cut my hair, the answer is a resounding "No." I must say, after that little incident in a moment of weakness, I considered it for about 5 minutes, but thankfully I had another sip of my hard cider and I'm better now.
I guess the British definition of "Mullet" may be a little different from the true definition. If anyone is a little fuzzy on the definition of what a mullet is, and is not, or the different and various classifications of mullets please go here:
http://www.mulletsgalore.com/
Anyway. That was plenty cathartic. Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.
I've also ordered a few Karaoke CDs with songs in my range. Hooray for Barry White. :-)
Anyway, that's all for now. I'll post more later on today. Oh, one last thing...
If you haven't already, GO SEE SERENITY! Best damn movie this year, but it's not getting the box office it rightly deserves. :-(
~Paul
So I load up about 6 bags worth of stuff that I absolutely needed and set off on my journey. Now, my parents will tell you that I can generally load myself down like a donkey, with 17 bags of groceries on each arm to bring them from the car into the house. Proof that I am truly mighty. Except for a little difference-- this wasn't the standard 25 feet from the car to the table inside, try about 2 miles worth of walking. Naturally, after the first 100 feet or so, I'm beginning to realize exactly how much of a bad idea this is. I manage to get back on the bus, then on the other bus (with a lot of strange stares from the locals about this guy with the wierd long hair, the big leather coat and the 6 stuffed Asda bags in the front seat). Then, the final leg, from the bus to my front door. It's a full half-mile, but with 6 bags strapped to your arms, it feels like about 12. So, I put on my mp3 player, turned up Tenacious D (the most hard-core album I own), and went to work.
By the time I got to my door, the album was done and I had left my arms halfway across campus. It's rather tough to sort out your things with bloody stumps, but, well, you do what you have to.
I had managed to get most everything on my list, with one notable blazing omission that sat at the bottom of my list, laughing at me.
[ ] FOOD.
So, the next day, I did it again. Only this time with 7 bags, full of food.
I hurt.
I need a shirpa. Or a burro.
7) I DO NOT HAVE A MULLET, GODDAMMIT!
There was Karaoke the other night, as sort of a "get to know people" activity within the Graduate school. I generally like Karaoke because, well, I've sung for so long that it's not a big deal for me. As I looked through the list, though, I realized that there were approximately 0 songs that I could sing well, just because they were too damned high. I am not a tenor. I never will be a tenor. Such is life. And most rock songs are sung by friggin tenors. Or countertenors. Grr. And as much as I would have liked to simply drop the octave, unfortunately that makes many of these songs sound really, really strange.
So, I picked out a song that I like that I thought (read, *thought*) wasn't too high, and went and sang it. And damn, was it high. Absolute tip top of my range. It sucked. But I did it, and I performed the hell out of it, so I'm hoping people didn't notice.
Afterwards, when I sat back down with the group I was sitting with (my flatmate Mark and a few absolutely gorgeous Greek girls-- one of whom is named Dhesbida (actually, it's more like Þesbida (for those of you who know IPA) or Δέσπίδά for those of you who know Greek). Apparantly, she says I'm the only foreigner who is able to accurately pronounce her name. :-)
So this other (also amazingly beautiful) girl-- (there's no shortage of them here) came up to me, brought by one of the other greeks at the table. The other greek, having forgotten my name, introduced me as "Mullet Man".
Now everyone, please say it with me, "I DO NOT HAVE A MULLET, GODDAMMIT!"
I didn't say that. I was very polite. Even pleasant. But I was thinking it really, really, really hard.
And if any of you are asking if this will convince me to cut my hair, the answer is a resounding "No." I must say, after that little incident in a moment of weakness, I considered it for about 5 minutes, but thankfully I had another sip of my hard cider and I'm better now.
I guess the British definition of "Mullet" may be a little different from the true definition. If anyone is a little fuzzy on the definition of what a mullet is, and is not, or the different and various classifications of mullets please go here:
http://www.mulletsgalore.com/
Anyway. That was plenty cathartic. Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.
I've also ordered a few Karaoke CDs with songs in my range. Hooray for Barry White. :-)
Anyway, that's all for now. I'll post more later on today. Oh, one last thing...
If you haven't already, GO SEE SERENITY! Best damn movie this year, but it's not getting the box office it rightly deserves. :-(
~Paul