I can't perform CPR. Which means that if you're choking to death and I'm the only one around, you're kinda hosed. I imagine I'd try to save your life, but I gotta be honest, your odds would not be good. First, you'd have to wait for me to get over my mental block with the mouth-to-mouth thing. Then you'd have to hope that my haphazard breathing and chest pushes would somehow suffice to resuscitate you. Actually, I'm still not over the whole mouth-to-mouth thing yet. Just so...awkward.
Man, this is not where I wanted to go with this post.
So...anyway...the reason why I wanted to write is because I have learned something awesome about CPR today. Apparently, the best rhythm to push on someone's chest for CPR is 100 BPM. And there are three extremely appropriate songs that just so happen to play at 100 RPM. The first is "Stayin' Alive". (Get it?) The second is "Quit Playing Games With My Heart". (Brilliant!) And the last is "Another One Bites The Dust." (Ruh roh).
So there you go. Your chances of dying with me are still pretty high, but at least I'll have the right rhythm in my head when I'm performing CPR. And that counts for something, right?
AUGH...my computer ate my last attempt at this post. Let's try this again...
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Watched Wicked. Loved it. The artsy-fartsy part of me wants to be all elitist and talk about all its flaws...how the music is less art and more bubble-gum pop, how the characters are reduced into caricatures, how the plot is overly simple, etc. etc. I don't care. The entire premise is brilliant (seriously, who would have thought the Wicked Witch of the West was actually the good one?) and the lyrics are just clever enough (aside: I love the puns: paws/pause, wins him/winsome) that I can let my inner critic rest and simply enjoy what amounts to the musical theatre version of a chick flick. There, I said it.
(On a related note: Pandora.com has proved to me that I thoroughly enjoy Vannesa Carlton's music. I wish I could quit her, but the flesh is weak.)
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I still think the Snuggie might be the best invention since the wireless router. I see it online for $15, but I can't get myself to take the plunge. We'll see...
Thanks to Hannah Hyun, I have finally been able to catch up on "The Office". Normally, I'm not really a TV person, but "The Office" is just hilarious. Also, I really needed to know whether Jim and Pam got together. I'm a sap like that.
Anyway, Will and I were talking together in our living room the other day, and we decided to watch an Office clip on YouTube for whatever reason. Somewhere in the middle of the clip, Dwight is eating grapes in a really weird pose, and Michael comes in the door and says "That's what she said."
Immediately, I turn to Will and say, "I don't get it." (Aside: I'm one of those guys who keeps asking questions/making inadvertent noises during movies. Yes, I know. I'm trying to fix it.)
Will's kinda exasperated, either because I've talked yet again during a video, or because I'm too stupid to get the joke. I'm not sure which. Probably both. He's about to snap at me, but then the movie keeps playing...
Dwight: "I don't get it."
And that's when Will starts laughing, and I'm staring into the screen with a horrible realization: I am the real-world Dwight Schrute.
I didn't want to believe it myself, but then this clip sealed it:
Then I started thinking about it, and I'm kinda like Andy Bernard too:
(Full disclosure: I have been one of the guys on the phone more times than I care to count.)
Anyway, I'm apparently like two of the most obnoxious people on television. How depressing. At least I'm not like Michael. Right?
I can finally scratch "Desecrate Wikipedia" off my personal list of things to do before I die. If you go to this page, you'll see my name in the "Other" section. Will's a bit more daring, so he put himself on the top under his own section: "Awesome Alumni". Let's see how long it takes them to notice. I'm thinking it'll probably be down before anyone reads this.
Wow, I really haven't been keeping up with this blog thing. And I really don't have anything much to say either...except this. I graduated three years too soon:
Starcraft DeCal? You serious? There is no letter that describes the grade I would get in that class. A+++++ would not sufficiently reward the amount of extra credit I would do. They'd have to give me the blank tile from Scrabble or something. (Get it? It comes before A when you're drawing for turns? No? Meh, I tried.)
Seriously though, if this class had been taught while I was still at Berkeley, I think it would have significantly altered the course of my life. You think I'm kidding, but I'm not.
