It's a song about Mr. Spock. What more do you want?

I love my roommate because even when we're both swamped and freaking out, she makes fart jokes. It's a more prized quality than I would have previously thought.

I went to see Malcolm Gladwell, author of The Tipping Point and most recently, blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking. Basically, he kicks ass, and his presentation kicked ass. I can't help feeling that this is the beauty of college. You read inspiring, innovative, moving things and discuss their theories in class. Then you meet the guy -- or something similar. My psych professor from last semester is cited in my psych book this semester. Nothing short of extraordinary. Gladwell�s connectors gave me goosebumps and there he was.

We are the queens of nerdom, we do not shirk our titles in private. She showed me the NQM, I showed her the VSD. We are still the prettiest, not king yet, mocking Moldiemort, and leaving messages signed "Gred and Forge."

The most amazing skill is that of compartmentalization. Our bad moods are all lurking below the surface, the sudden stress is taking a toll on everyone. We all left some private trauma(s) at home. We can deal.

The best part about listening to music I know is bad is that I don't need to search for meaning. Yeah, the All-American Rejects were a one-hit wonder. No, I don�t have any taste. G. Love & The Special Sauce sing me to sleep with Milk & Cereal, it doesn�t need to be any deeper than that.

Igby Goes Down WAS good, but it wasn't the orignal.

Here's the thing, the reference is almost always there - intentional or not. It's a Where's Waldo game, where's the scream in the sigh?

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