reading period, period.

I have finals in 6 days. What am I stressing about? Summer plans.
In January.
Oh Harvard.

1234 Tell me that you love me more

...because I sure hate your music video. To my utmost horror, Feist's 1234 music video is not only playing nonstop in Apple's iPod nano ads but up for a Grammy.

In it's defense, someone called it, "Busby Berkeley gone indie."

Just because Busby Berkeley is taught in film classes doesn't mean he has good taste.

I'd call it Busby Berkeley gone 80s. Which is a superexplosion of tackiness.

Two wrongs don't make a right

...but three wrongs do.

three left turns = right turn

this is so amazing it hurts.

"To be or not to be: that is the question, whether tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune."

anagrams to

"In one of the Bard's best-thought-of tragedies, our insistent hero, Hamlet, queries on two fronts about how life turns rotten."

My Life as a Game

I had a dream during this morning's fitful sleep.

We were on a beach discussing strategies for a game. "I know!" I said, "We have to get two of them to hook up!" "Them" referred to two of our mutual friends, and the idea of this strategy was to simultaneously improve the "relationship" score of two friends at once. The game we were playing was a mutant hybrid of HSX, Facebook, and Sims. Each person is a stock whose price is determined by his or her success in life, made up of scores such as "relationship," "career," and "health." Each player then maintains a portfolio of "friends" to invest it. The objective of the game: make money.

In my woozy, jarred-awake state, I briefly contemplated starting such a game. And then I realized, what was this but the game of life?