Ode to a poopie-head police officer

Dear Mr. Police Officer who was out clocking people at midnight on a Monday night and pulled me over on my way home from a gig in Dayton:

You're a Meanie.

I know I was doing 90 in a 65, but there was no one else on the road for me to hit! And anyway, I'm extremely good at driving fast, I'm not clumsy about it. Dad taught me better than that.

And anyway, I was driving home from a shitty gig an hour and a half away that didn't pay anything, and I had to get up early the next morning for class.

I tried to cry to make you feel bad, but I was too tired to make it happen (maybe driving that tired isn't such a good idea, after all.)

Anyway, I know you knocked it down to 85 so I don't have to go to court, but it's still, like, $80 and six points on my liscense. And my car insurance is going to go way up.

Dear Mr. Police Officer, you'd better watch out, because if my friend Assia ever meets you, she said she'd throw her shoe at you.

You'd better watch out, because her shoes are very pointy.

It has dawned upon me recently that I am getting old.

Now, of course, this is all relative, and a lot of people would laugh at me for such a statement.

I look at some of the freshman jazz majors and think "god, are they even shaving their faces yet?"

I have a picture of a bunch of the jazz majors in my class from when we were freshman.

It's interesting to see how different everyone looks.

I never go out to parties and get hammered anymore. Even when I have the inkling to do so, no one calls. Most everyone just goes out to the bar, and I can't do that for two more months.

My Friday nights are more often spent doing homework, or getting halfway through a glass of wine before I pass out on the couch, watching reruns of Seinfeld or something.

I also have lost my amazing ability to sleep past 11 am. Or stay up past 2 am.

Except of course, when I'm trying to plug through a bunch of Karl Marx for my literature class.

It's 3 in the morning.

I drank coffee at midnight.

I read "the communist manifesto" by Karl Marx for my english class, as well as a companion essay.

I'm convinced Marx was smoking something.

Time for ramen noodles.

Happy Easter

I'm glad Jesus died for my sins so my parents and I could go out and eat all sorts of shellfish for dinner. Mussels, scallops, and crab cakes. and NO MATZOH! BWAHAHAHAH (sorry Rachel, I love you and your pro-passover coconut macaroons are awesome!).

Actually I'm a skeptical agnostic so I guess it doesn't really matter either way.

Although I do try to avoid the subject of religion with most people. I don't want to rile anyone up.

I had to read "Darwin: A Very Short Introduction" for my literature class. Don't ask me why this is literature. But it was still fascinating. It explained what darwinism is and isn't (social darwinism=perversion of his theories), and explained areas of his theory which he wasn't quite able to work out.