In addition to the Fleetwood Mac reference, my crush also happened to sing "The Eye of the Tiger" as we played that night. I'm listening to it now.
BOY HOWDY this is how CREEPY MEMORIES are made. Yearbooks could've been so much better.

I don't have a problem with having friends who are, say, three or so years younger than me. I mean, it gets a little weird when you consider sibling ages, but it's eminently overlookable.
But then I realize OMG YOU NEVER LIVED IN THE EIGHTIES, and everything just gets a little awkward.

Also, a gripe: It bothers me to no end when folks say they're feeling sick, and that their remedy is (or someone suggests the remedy of) eating a whole lot of vitamins, or drinking a lot of vitamin C, or eating ?garlic pills?. Okay, people, it doesn't work. Sucking down Emergen-C is not a valid way to fight off a cold or the sniffles; vitamin C is ascorbic acid, and your body can only absorb so much of it at any time. If you drink a whole lot of vit C, you're just making your pee more expensive (and possibly a bit fragrant, but the jury's still out).

I fucking hate official transcripts.

So you have a birthday party. At this party are multiple best friends, and friends you've had for years upon years. You're also entertaining an ostentatious new girl from Chicago, a beautiful woman of science who admit she's had a crush on you, the roommate of same. Soon-to-be superspies. That guy you met at your first meeting to the GSA over the summer. Those couple folks you were once squeezed awkwardly with onto a couch. Oh, and did I mention that cute guy who you were so certain (a) you'd never learn the name of? (b) once you did, never talk to? (c) once you did, never spend time around? (d) once you did, never become friends or (gasp) lab partners? is also there? At your birthday? And you're doing the party thing while he's talking to the guy you met at your first meeting of GSA and one half of the awkward couch couple?

Prediction has no teeth.

It was stellar, folks, really, the best birthday on the adult record. Yet sitting here now, I'm more and absolutely enchanted by the fact that he's intimately acquainted with my favorite, favorite Fleetwood Mac song.

And I got drunk, but I regret nothing.

Craigslist can stop trying. I've found the best ad ever:

Gong Ringer
Looking for someone to ring a gong in my living room when prompted. Part time position, I imagine mostly weekends. Experience not necessary, but history of gong-related ceremony in bloodline preferred. Serious inquiries only.

I'm pretty sure that I don't have strep, but I'm also pretty sure that my stomach doesn't like the antibiotics and that cold sores are fickle bitches.

In other news, I've been presumed as straight by two separate groups of lab friends on two separate days now. This is Weird, especially since I haven't tried to be straight since high school.

Birthday tomorrow WOO!

So you know those dreams that come when you've told yourself, Psh, I'm not in love with that guy, definitely not? Those ones where you're happy together because he's just butted you in the arm and you're hanging onto him laughing like a retarded mule and then he almost crawls into a nest of black widows and then you realize what would happen to your precious insides if he died?

Yeah. I didn't either, until last night.

SEE NAY MEEEEEX!

Yeah, figure that out. Also, I'm tired. Also, why the hell is it snraining?

Lauren's birthday was awesome. I really want a weekend so I can recover from the weekend, hokay? And what jackass thought it was a good idea to schedule a couple of tests directly following my birthday weekend, huh? Yeah, I'm looking at you, Bill Cosby.

Am heading up to Flag. Quite worried about the snow that's supposed to fall this evening into tomorrow, for a host of reasons including (but not limited to) school on Monday, meetings on Monday, work to complete before, the car I'll be in (equipped for snow but also not mine), and the inspired maladroitness that is driving in Arizona snow.

Am quite excited to see Lauren! Am quite excited for Lauren's birthday! General wish that snow would put on the red light.

I just stumbled (okay, awkwardly stalked) across a Facebook group for the brother's biology class. Yes, he's still in high school, and so shouldn't really be on Facebook at all, but, hey, it's a college prep class and if he's going to be on Facebook, what the hell?

I click onto it. Who started the group? His biology teacher, who also admins the group and, needless to say, has a Facebook.

Jesus, I miss the days when you had a to have a college .edu email address to join Facebook. Maybe we should just start something else, hm? Fists to the sky, comrades!

Being in class till after ten makes me a tired guy, but it makes the Backstreet Boys sound that much better.

“Calm down. You don’t just grab a ruler and tell everyone to whip their dicks out, you stuff your crotch and keep your pants on.”

Entry number one hundred! I'd be more proud if each of those posts were as well-crafted as an episode of Firefly. Alas, we muddle on.

I had a dream last night about some guys I crushed on in high school, and the only thing I think I took away from the dream was that they had really awful gelled hair back then.

I was slightly panicking this morning. I talked to Kellie and wrote a letter, and discovered once again that the things we panic about are often masks.

...Jesus, wasn't I funny before or something?

Happy February, and all that. Rabbit rabbit (reference?)

I'm looking through a bunch of summer undergrad research programs. I was quite excited at first, but so many (too many) have a stipulation that you can't participate if you've graduated/are going to graduate/otherwise have a degree. So, once again, I'm stuck in the middle: technically graduated, technically not graduated. Dammit, when is my damn degree going to be worth something?

4.0 summa cum laude in English!
SOMEONE LOVE ME.