On Bedtime

A few months ago I started thinking about bedtime. When did it get pushed back? When was it no longer an issue? When did it become unimaginable to go to bed at 10 rather than to stay up until 10? When was New Year's Eve no longer a big deal because you got to stay up late? When were adults no longer these awe-worthy nocturnal beings, and what the heck did they do after I went to bed?

I honestly don't remember what my bedtime was growing up. I am guessing 8 when I was pretty small, then 9 for most of elementary school. I do remember in junior high when I was an AIM addict, that my parents wanted me off the computer by 10, but I'm not sure if there was an actual bedtime. I remember getting to stay up for game 7 of the 1997 world series when the Marlins beat the Indians on Renteria's clutch hit in extra innings. Thanks dad. But I don't remember when I became completely autonomous in my decision to go to bed. Now unlike many of my friends, I still prefer to get 7 or 8 hours of sleep if possible, so, depending on when I have class, I usually go to bed between 1230 and 130. In high school I was usually out between 11 and 12 during the week. I never had a curfew, but I still got more sleep than most of my peers. Not that I wouldn't stay up late when it was called for (TPing, midnight movie screenings, guys nights, etc.), I just preferred a normal night's rest. I think that is probably a product of upbringing, as neither of my parents are real night owls (especially mom). Whatever it is, it's kind of nice.

Another thing I distinctly remember is when my older brother got to stay up to watch Letterman with my dad. Then slowly (not sure what age), I would stay up and watch the monologue, then maybe the first few little games or bits of randomness, then maybe a guest if it was someone I cared about. Letterman is a big part of my dad's life, but now he has to record it (getting old). He would never survive on the East coast.

New Years. My family, the Clarks, and the Congdons, used to have annual New Years get-togethers and the Clark's full of ping pong, cards, N64, and general good times. I still remember the first time I stayed up past 2am. I thought I had reached the pinnacle of existence. What could hold me back? So funny. Oh how things change. In college, I frequently have to stay up late. When it isn't a choice, there is no freedom, and it's no fun.

Well that's that. I guess I just thought it was interesting that while growing up, staying up late is this big mystical thing that you hope to achieve, but once you have the option, you can't imagine not having it. In fact, it becomes exceedingly hard to go to bed early. Life becomes busy.

On Top Bunks

I've never really had any fear sleeping on a top bunk. I voluntarily did it all of last year. A certain Congdon boy has experienced top bunks with me multiple times. Sure i shift around quite a bit in my sleep. When i was little my dad would tell me all the crazy positions he saw me in during the night. Many times these included my head or other extremities hanging awkwardly off the bed. I suppose my body just has survival sensors preventing it from plummeting to the floor. Now don't expect me to go sleep in a hammock on the face of Half Dome or anything, these are just observations.

This year my roommate Anson took the top bunk plunge. Oh did he ever. It's nice having my bed so close now, saving that little bit of energy each evening and morning. Although I sometimes miss the jolt of force being absorbed by my feet when i jumped down each morning with a loud thud. I was Anson's alarm clock whether he wanted it or not.

This year the two of us inevitably get into a decent conversation right before or after the lights go out. It usually has to do with memories of family, high school, or something nostalgic. It's our bit of decompression and bonding after a long day. Last night the suite was full of tension, the kind created by brains too full of information. Ideas from Organic chemistry, Great Books, and Political Theory were so consuming our lives that we had little patience to deal with our little suite community. Naturally we began to exploit each other's irritability. After Warren almost killed Anson and i for prodding and wrestling with him (he's about as big as both of us combined), Anson and I resorted to giving each other punches in the shoulder. I regret it now.

All the energy was finally expelled and we both found ourselves in bed, when Anson started rattling our mini-blinds despite my requests fro his silence. I got out of bed, hit him, and crawled back in bed with my CPLS Soccer blanket held tight to my face. Shortly thereafter Anson swung at me from his top bunk perch, "It's over. I have the high ground," he taunted. But unlike Anakin, I performed the ultimate reversal. Grasping onto a poorly aimed fist, I gave a firm tug. Physics did the rest. Down went Anson. As he fell from the top bunk, his head tucked and a quick somersault planted tailbone directly on floor.

I paused, fingered for a light switch, saw he was OK, and erupted in laughter. He did likewise. That happened. Oh did it ever.

"You know what makes you smart? Eating healthy food."

Tonight provided the culmination of my October concert-spree. The Decemberists performed at the Wiltern LG. Lavender Diamond was the opening band. They probably weren't the worst opening band i have ever heard, but definitely the opening band that understood their role the least. Lavender's lead singer came out high on 'shrooms or some other illegal substance and immediately thought the audience was her friend. Her voice was airy, a little high pitched, and had an irish/minnesotan accent. Weird combination i know, but it's the truth

"LA is great. We love you all. But what we love more is world peace. And we love you because you love peace. You are all great people. And well-dressed, but i can't see you."

Is this happening? Is she really not singing yet? Does she think we care?
Yes. Yes. And yes. Oh no, she started singing. Please start talking again. At least that was funny. Finally.

"Thank you all very much. I love LA because you are all such smart people."

Wow. Men in Black, go look up the quote. end of story.

"Why are you smart? Is it because you go to school and eat healthy food? i think its probably the healthy food. Why are you all laughing? Are you prehistoric or something? Wait...that didn't make sense."

Okay now this is all just a big joke, and thankfully even the Decemberists realized that and poker fun at her during their performance, calling us all smart and well-dressed, oh people.

On the way back from the concert, Anson and i were quite parched due to the body heat of 3000 people rising towards the balcony where we were sitting. Slurpees at Seven Eleven sounded just right. I hadn't had a slurpee in quite sometime. Anson was afraid we might get shot in the 7-11 parking lot.
"People always get shot in the parking lots of sketchy LA convenience stores."
"Anson, if i go out with a 40 oz cherry Coke slurpee in my hand, then so be it. But before the guy shoots me i want him to say, 'Big gulps eh? Welp, see ya later' **BANG**"

We made it back to campus with slurpees and overpriced concert merchandise in hand.

"Why don't you just get it over with and do heroin?"

Recently i have become aware of an addictive element in my personality. It has been with me for quite some time as i reminisce. Even in elementary school i would suck the marrow out of a particular recess activity and move on. From kickball, to four-square, to knockout, to soccer, to wall ball. They were all monthish-long addictions which i discarded after the novelty ran out. Since then, many others cycled through my life, some showing more longevity than others. Basketball, fantasy sports, ping pong, super smash bros (actually most new video games, most recently "burnout revenge" and "need for speed:underground"), AIM, blogging (clearly hasn't been a problem recently), poker, working out, Jack Bauer, Lost, Sufjan, writing, minesweeper, eBay, harry potter...That's what comes to mind right now. Pretty much all of these things still hold some place in my life, but in some sort of cycle one will inevitably emerge and for better or worse take up a disproportionately large amount of my time.

The titular quote came from my roommate last night. I just recently reduced significantly the amount of on-line gambling i take part in, partially due to frustration, partly due to the emotional stress, partly because i wanted some of that time back, but as with all the things mentioned above, i think i got bored with it. In an effort to find something else to do, i downloaded a minesweeper widget for my laptop and wouldn't quit until i beat it on expert (i know, i know, it's not that hard, but the mouse configuration on the Mac version is a little different and i hadn't played in at least a year, cut me some slack). i was staring intensely at the screen when my roommate walked in and with a shake of his head, sighed and uttered ""Why don't you just get it over with and do heroin?" Considering i had just watched "Trainspotting," this actually gave me something to think about. But if heroin got addicted to Jack Bauer, who knows what it would do to me. Pass.

I guess my long absence is somewhat explained by this post, but although i do intend to return to browsing the blogs and other web journals more often, i don't think this will be my next addiction. If you have any ideas, though, i'm game.