Not Just Another Friday

Thursday night could best be described as ridiculous. Having been driven to the drink by Socrates, a couple hours later found me and O on the floor in what can only be described as tequila-induced hysterics. We were crying, nay, bawling, and singing Hootie and the Blowfish songs at the top of our lungs. I’m not sure why. X number of minutes later we calmly sat down and finished our respective work. I’m not sure exactly what I wrote on that assignment since when I tried to read it this morning I had forgotten what it was about. So I handed it in. The grade I receive will dictate whether or not philosophy homework should be done in the presence of tequila in the future.

Friday was a pissy day at best. I woke to gray skies and bare, ghostly trees; the rain was coming down, like we say, in buckets. But there are classes to go to, so I bravely braved the storm and stepped outside in what I foolishly thought was rain gear, only to be soaked to the bone in 30 seconds flat. My shoes apparently have invisible holes, otherwise how to explain the wet socks, and the ‘raincoat’ is apparently just a coat to be worn in the rain, not to protect you from it or anything. A miserable 3 hours later, having shivered through a lecture on primate evolution of all things, I was back in my room devouring steaming hot naans and chicken tikka, for which I knew I would be paying at the gym later. Then, fed and dry, I bunked down for my first afternoon nap in 5, that’s right FIVE days. I was as snug as a bug in a rug, so to speak, and twas the best sleep I’ve had in days.

Heart burn woke me. Turns out oily Indian food and orange juice are not the best combination to sleep on. My esophagus was on fire, I kid you not, and the gym was calling. Water bottle in hand and running shoes on feet, I braved the winds once again for the sake of fitness. And I was in a mood. A downright pissy mood that had me swapping my usual gym playlist for my Incubus playlist. Obviously hip hop wasn’t the way to go that night.

Outside was, in a word, magical. The sky was an exquisite blue-black and the rain was coming down in sheets. Not hard enough that you couldn’t see though, and I stopped by the pond to watch the waves. Pond is quite the understatement, but lake would be a ridiculous overstatement, so imagine something in between if you will. I feel that we, in general, are creatures of the light, and we rarely take the time to appreciate a good storm at night. Watching the wind sweep the rain across the surface of the water, the trees in disarray, spooky and magnificent at the same time, was a moment for me.

And I felt like walking. Just walking, you know. So in the gym I got on the treadmill and... walked. I was reacquainting myself with the older Incubus albums, like Science and Make Yourself, which has gems like Nebula and Calgone which I had never really taken the time to fully appreciate. And I was in the zone. So much so that I found myself doing really weird things like trying to increase the volume on my ipod by pressing the incline button (why is it getting harder to walk?) and trying to stare myself down in the mirror.

After I don’t know how long I headed home again. And had to stop by the lake-pond again. If anyone had happened to glance out the window, I would have surely been a strange sight: 10 in the night, person in tracks and a hoodie staring at the water in the middle of a storm. Sort of murderer-rapist type, waiting for the next victim?

Back in my room, a steamy shower later, protein shake in hand I settled down to watch Across the Universe. It warrants its own post, but if you haven’t watched it yet, you best do so right away. At least get the soundtrack, its nothing short of incredible. And I now am in love with Jim Sturgess.