The Calm after the Storm

Man, it's been awhile since I updated, but I bet most people can guess why. Finals sort of left me incapacitated. Studying left me too drained to do much of anything, really. The farthest I was willing to go was for coffee, which Shaw Hall kept about four hundred feet, as the crow flies, away from my room. You gotta love the stuff. I mean it's awful! AWFUL! Aw shit... I can see this sudden caffeine addiction as a gateway into hard drugs. How easily I'm seduced by a jolt of energy! During finals week, I was chatting with some friends in the cafeteria, and there was a moment where I had to guess what I was saying based on their facial expressions. It was like something hijacked my brain. Speaking of addictions, I could use some will power now while I'm home.. Yesterday, I ate about four chocolate chip cookies in one sitting, and it took me about an hour. What I do is pick the cookie apart, prying chocolate chip after chocolate chip off the body of the cookie until it's gone. I've heard that anorexic people do the same thing, except they stop when they've had just enough to fight their hunger. I don't stop until I'm about to throw up. So, it really doesn't do anything except waste time and piss people off. No one wants to eat a cookie that looks like a piece of Swiss cheese- holes where the chocolate is supposed to be. Speaking of food, since I've been back, I've witnessed an ecosystem out of whack. My vacant role in the food web has really started to wreck havoc on the cubbard. There's piles of dried peas, dried cherries, nutri-grain bars, hummus containers, almonds, and blackberry yogurt laying around, a testament to the extinction of the Alex. But, since I've been reintroduced into the wild, things are starting to look better. I sure as hell have enjoyed making up for lost time. Eating is my favorite.

In addition to taking finals, I spent all of last week finalizing my transfer to U of M. Looks like I'm going! Everyone keeps asking me if I'm excited, and I've tried to be optimistic when answering them, but the truth is I'm nervous and scared as hell. No more restlessness for me, this is it. If I don't like it, I'm stuck. I'm signing in blood this time. In all honesty, I think I'll hate Ann Arbor just as much as East Lansing over time. However, here's how I rationalize it. Instead of staying in one place and letting my hatred fester for four years, isn't it better to start over for my second half of school? That way, your hate intensity never passes the two-year mark! Haha, and to think that's what I've been smiling about these last few weeks. The chance at a brand new hate cycle. Aw well, at least I'm not getting my hopes up. I'm letting realism take the reigns for awhile. I've got orientation tomorrow. This late in the game, I'll be lucky if I get a class with a chair in it for me. I'm taking our lawn seat just in case. I'll be looking pretty fly in the back of the room with my drink holders, smelling like beer and bug spray.

I only asked for one thing for Christmas: The National Genographic Project kit. I've been wanting to get involved with this project for years. I think it's scheduled to conclude in 2010. For those who don't know, it's a massive team of researchers going around the world to collect DNA samples from the most disparate peoples on Earth. I've seen clips of guys in white lab coats swabbing the cheeks of witch doctors. Anyone can contribute, though. All you have to do is order the kit. It comes with a DVD explaining the project and just what it is that your DNA will tell the project. After you send in a cheek swab, which should contain a couple good, DNA-packed cells, your results can be accessed and tracked through their web site. As more people send in information, your results become more comprehensive. I'm not sure about what they tell you EXACTLY, but I know you find out which haplogroup you belong to, and I know you get to see a map of your ancestor's route out of Africa. Men can elect between a mitochondrial DNA test, which traces the DNA passed down from mother to mother, or a Y-Chromosome DNA Test, which traces the DNA handed down from father to father. I asked for the mitochondrial test. My mother's mother's family was Hungarian, and Hungarians have quite the mysterious genetic and historic origin. Maybe this test could shed some light on where the Magyars came from. Some theories posit that the Hungarians came from Central Asia. God, it would be so awesome if that were true! What a surprise! I'd do their testimonial for free: "I look like a normal, white guy, but you'd never guess that I'm Asian! Thanks National Genographic!"

I think within four hours of getting home I was stealing music. Man, how I missed it all these months! MSU's network moderators are very good at catching people. So, all semester long, I kept a list of albums I needed to steal. I'm almost through the list now. Do I ever feel bad about it. Yeah, yeah I do. It's not fair to the artist, but I don't think the future lies in digital sales anyways, at least not for rock bands, so what I'm doing isn't of that much importance either way. Pop and R & B artists can make a killing off their latest iTunes single, but rock bands that focus on the album as a whole are sort of incompatible with this new type of market. Now, it's not that I want to see the album format go away so that I can divest myself of guilt and just buy my band's singles on iTunes. That's probably the furthest thing from what I would want. All I'm saying is that since CD sales are secondary, bands should just give up the fight against pirates. Let us steal your music. Focus on your tours. Put on awesome shows. Tours are the cash cow. We understand if it takes you three years in between albums. Take your time on your tours, and earn some money.

My Red Wings are sort of in a funk right now. Their goaltending is a little shaky, and they seem to be having some trouble when penetrating the neutral zone. A lot of their plays have ended at mid-ice, which is very uncharacteristic of Detroit's powerful, fast, and puck-controlling offense. We play San Jose on Thursday and then the Black Hawks on the 30th and on New Year's, so I should be in for some good hockey throughout my stay at home.

Nick was very friendly towards me during our last week together. I think it was because I told him that I was leaving for good soon. Visions of a double room all his own must have been swirling through his mind all week. All that extra space to buffer him from humans. Ah, I shouldn't be mean. We were very different, Nick. I don't know how we could be matched in the same room, let alone the same planet. I was very relieved that our hand shake last week didn't lead to a matter-on-anti-matter explosion.

My sister had a carolling party yesterday, so I had to move all the stuff I brought home from school plus some other junk into my bedroom for the facade of tidiness. My room looks like a flea market with a bed. There is just so much shit everywhere. Just walking from the light switch to my bed yesterday felt like a game of fucking minesweeper. My feet are bruised from it. One can barely see my Alexander the Great statue through all the dead, rejected plants, and columns of Cosmo Girls. I've put 24 hours on the clock. If my room isn't cleaned by someone, then it's getting cleaned by the blow torch.

That's it, for the most part. I haven't really been up to much- video games, food, and waiting for everyone else to get home. I just had to update since it's been so long. I'll be updating more, though, since I have all the time in the world for the next month. Well, it's getting late. I should go see what long BBC nature specials are on.