The most adorable post I may ever make.

For the past two weeks I've been almost constantly at my friend Emily's house. Partly because she has instant Netflix, so we sit and watch horrible horror movies or Doctor Who for hours.  And partly because she has a new puppy.

The dog, Sophie, may or may not be the next regeneration of the Doctor. Which means if she meets my dog, it might be a little messy.

I like Emily's house.  She lives in the middle of town, whereas I live in the middle of nowhere, and it's hard to make fun of movies like The Beast Within (which you should check out, by the way) when you're the only one suffering through it.

And, for a while, we partied like rock stars.
  
And by rock stars I mean nerds. Whatever.

The Oncoming Storm, the Madman With A Box

When I went off to college I made some new friends, with new interests and new, um...obsessions...

And one of these obsessions grabbed hold of me and is determined not to let go.

This one.

Also this.

Aaaaaand this.

Doctor Who - one of the most influential, popular, and downright fantastic television shows to come out of the UK. It spans more than forty years, and because of that the Doctor (the main character, you know) must regenerate into a new man, a new face, and travel around the galaxy on the TARDIS, his spaceship - gah, you know what, just trust me. It's good.  And I like it.  I like it a lot.

So much I had to procure myself a Sonic Screwdriver, the Doctor's weapon of choice (and by weapon I mean a screwdriver that is sonic).The Doctors above are the Ninth, Tenth, and Eleventh incarnation of the original man. Nine and Ten have the same device, a sexy silver screwdriver, but Eleven's is different - all nice and steampunk.


But Nine has always been my favorite Doctor, so I decided to get his - and Ten's of course.

And so I ordered one. And I waited...

And I waited...

And I waited...

But today it came!  My excitement was obvious!

I rushed to the mailbox to claim my prize - which I will say was dropped of not by the mail lady but by the Doctor.  He just couldn't stick around long enough to say hello.

asdfghjkla

sdlfghealrkflakjeh;H;RKGJSHR - wait, hold on...

SLIGUESRHLEHSRLGUA;ueha;oguah;EH;GODHG;SERJ; - but is that...

That is the Tenth and Eleventh reincarnations of the Doctor on the package for the screwdriver of Nine and Ten.

What.

For some reason fewer people like Nine, but to not put him on the package of his own screwdriver is a little mean.

But none of you really care about that but me, so MOVING ON.

I am very excited.  I tried to Sonic my dogs to make sure they weren't alien life forms, but Goren just ran away.

I think that means he's a martian.

 

Why is IU so lacking in things to do?

I haven't posted in a while, and I apologize for that.  And now I'm going to be all hateful, and I'm sorry for that as well.


The only thing I've heard about 'round the IU campus is sorority related.  I am not in a sorority.  I never want to be in a sorority.  I don't see their point, except to make it a little easier to get wasted.  Which is pretty easy anyway, especially around here. 

My room mate is in a sorority, as is everyone else in my dorm it seems.  And I sit here, on the internet, forever alone like a 4chan meme.  I hear about the formal that my room mate's house is having,  I hear our neighbors gossiping about their awesome parties and their legion of sun-tanned sorority sisters.

I know I've made this point before, but I want to outline it again, in case it wasn't clear enough the first time: my room mate has conversations about drinking and parties; my friend and I walked around one of the Halls on campus looking at exhibits of taxidermied amphibians and birds. My idea of a cool night out involves going to the art museum or watching reruns of Doctor Who on Netflix.  Sororities do not concern me so much.

The other thing going around is religion.  My parents did not make us go to church.  The first time I remember attending one was around fourth grade, with a friend of mine.  So, when rumors fly around about Religious Anything I tend to ignore them.  However, when I heard that there was going to be a talk called "Jesus and the end of Religion" I decided to see what it was about, hoping for a legitimate talk about how religion could change.  I had hoped for a talk about what religious people thought was wrong with religion and how they thought it could be improved.  I will not deny it, I think there are some things wrong with religion, but I also believe that with some help things could get better.  They did none of these things, however.  Without going into detail, I will tell you that I was uncomfortable and angry the entire way through the seminar, and I now owe my friend my soul for making her attend the horrible thing in the first place.

So I say again, there is nothing going on around campus that is worth my time.  So instead I did this.

'Our Fun' and 'Their Fun'

Today, for what I believe is the first time, I realized the major difference between my roommate's idea of hanging out and my idea of hanging out.

It's Friday. A good day, Friday. The end of the week, the first time I can actually stay up past midnight.  The bad part about Friday is that my first class is at eight in the morning. I wake up at seven so I can make my leisurely way to class, my roommate is still asleep, and I tiptoe around as best I can.  Her first class is at eleven, so she can stay up till way past my bed time at one frat house or another.

One other good part about Friday: I'm meeting a friend for lunch.  And she has promised to show me something cool.  A TARDIS graffitied on the side of Ballantine Hall, one of the biggest buildings on campus.  We meet finally and she shows me this beautiful thing.

BELIEVE

We go to Subway, where we talk about how time is nonlinear, how the whole concept is merely human invention, how you can remember things that haven't even happened to you yet.  High-class information, here.

When we leave, we continue to talk, and our conversation soon turns towards vampires. Not like Twilight, don't worry.  Instead we speak about the many creation theories of Dracula.  She believes it was the influence of an other-dimensiony particle, and I say it is a genetic mutation.  Eventually I have to go back to class, where two more of my friends and I talk for twenty minutes about the advantages of knowing a second language (one of them knows three and is working on her fourth)and the discrepancy of hand gestures around the world. 

Eventually class is over and my friend and I go back to my dorm- to do something cool, I know that's what you're thinking.  What did we do, you ask?  We played sheet music, her on violin and me on piano.  Her song is this lovely piece, Czardas:

And mine, the beautiful Raindrop Prelude:

(It gets really good in the middle) 

This is what my friends and I do.  For fun. BAM! Done before six P.M. 

My roommate does this:
On Thursday, goes out to party, coming back at one or two in the morning.
Turns disapprovingly towards the wall when I rise at seven.
Leaves as soon as I come in at 6:30 to START partying.  
Will not return till two, three maybe (it IS Friday night, after all).


I feel like a WINNER.

Living in a houseboat off the coast of Ireland, owning a castle/restaurant.

I like to travel.  Or, rather, I would like to travel.

I have been on three major trips in my time, along with some smaller explore-the-area deals.  I've been to Tennessee, Chicago, Louisville of course, and some other places, but the Top Three Major Trips are so far out of their league it's not even funny.  They're bad-metaphor big, these things.  We don't have all the money in the world, but my parents somehow pulled it off.  They're made of magic and awesome, mostly.

The first was to Washington, D.C. in either seventh or eighth grade, I can't remember.  We took a bus, maybe thirty junior high kids and a smattering of adults.  We slowly wound our way up to D.C., through some other historical sites.  I only really remember Monticello and a massive statue of George Washington in the American History Museum.

This sexy (awkward?) piece of president.

 What I do remember well is coming home.  Sleeping on a bus is hard to do, so I understandably wanted to get a good nap in the car on the way home.  Instead, I was greeted by my mother and brother and the news that we had acquired a new dog.  His name was Ted. Oh! And they hadn't told the Padre first.  Classic.

He's sly like a fox.  A fox that has Voldemort on speed dial.

So, understandably, I wanted my own dog.  I named him Goren, and he's now afraid of balloons and squeak toys, the knowledge of which Ted uses mercilessly against him.

Closet hypochondriac.

Which led us to a grand total of four dogs. NO END TO THE HILARITY, I TELL YOU. Or the mess. Or the fluffiness.

Totally worth the dog hair.

 But then nothing interesting happened for a while.  No more dogs, no more Sexy Presidents.  Until the summer after Tenth grade.  I received a letter in the mail saying I could go to Japan for two weeks.  I convinced my parents it was legit and TOTALLY WORTH IT. 'Cause I'm a nerd like that, mostly, but what can you do?

And then. For two weeks.  JAPAN.

And do you know what Japan is? Awesome, that's what.

The next summer I got another offer, this time for three weeks in Europe.  I was perhaps more excited this time.  Mostly because people would actually be able to understand me most of the time.  We went to England, Holland, Ireland, France, Wales, and Belgium.  Now, when I watch Harry Potter, I totally KNOW WHAT'S UP.

I am trapped in a phone booth. Second only to a Police Box.

 

And then, the summer after that, I got a job.  I was slowly going insane restocking CDs and DVDs.  I still haven't really gotten over the fact that I'm stuck in the states.  Small things can remind me of that, a scent from Tokyo or a meal from Paris.  Mostly it's the food.  We were asked why we were excited to go to Japan, or England, and my answer was always to taste the food.  Escargot in Paris, waffles in Belgium, Dutch cheese, actual Japanese sushi.

And basically the title of this rambling entry sums up what I want to retire to.  I'll never travel enough, and I'll never cook enough.  Whether it's thirty, or sixty, or eighty, this is the dream I have for myself.

The Robot Saga: Boredom at it's finest

It all started with a simple misunderstanding.  She said, "I think Robert came to school."  I heard, "I think the robot came to school."  It kind of all went downhill from there. 

                                                                         He met a girl.

                                                                     They fell in love.

                                                         They gazed at the stars together.

                                          Also, I drew Doctor Who coming out of the TARDIS.

A study in mustaches: a companion piece.

The only one I bothered to do in Paint.

Ladies' Room - Now with more facial hair!

Cabana girl

Gangstaaaa yo

"Hi, my name is Kurt.  Paper or plastic?"

This isn't mine, I got it whilst trolling the intertubes.  Puns are funny.

 

 

Not a mustache, just a FACKIN WEREWOLF!

If you hadn't noticed, I really don't have much to write about this week.  Except Doctor Who.  That's the only thing I've had time to do, watch Doctor Who.  It's like tasty British crack covered in sprinkles and sci-fi.  I know I'm super late to the whole Who-verse (not to be confused with the Who-verse in Dr. Seuss, an equally good if not nearly as cool Doctor.) but I'm trying to catch up.  And simultaneously defend my love for the Doctor in Season One (the 9th doctor, if you didn't know).  No one seems to like him as much as the later Doc, but whatevs.  It's not like they're super wrong or anything.

OH WAIT, THEY ARE.

That's not an opinion, that's fact, too.  MY FACT.  CAUSE I AM INFALLIBLE.

Just sayin'.