National Treasure: like the Italian Job, only with Masons instead of Mafia!

I did something good for myself yesterday! Thank you, thank you. Flowers and monetary donations will be gladly accepted.

But seriously, I went to the rec center on campus for the first time ever last night, and I worked out for about forty minutes, then sat and watched some friends playing racquetball. Now that I know about this place, and I know when racquetball happens, I think I shall be going more often.

I'm sure you're all wondering how I came to gather enough momentum to get myself to a place I'd never been to before. Well, I'll tell you: this past few weeks have been full of papers to write and exams to study for, as well as videos to make and volleyball to play. Last night I celebrated the end of that push by realizing that I didn't have anything I needed to be doing, and I balked at the idea of just sitting around the house all night doing nothing. Thus, the rec center and blessed physical activity.

Other things of note:
-I started watching National Treasure last night with a couple of roommates and friends, and I've realized that I must be really annoying to watch movies with. If I've seen the movie before, I feel the need to recite everybody's lines along with them, while if it's a movie I've never seen, I give a running commentary of all my thoughts: "No! Don't get in the truck!" "Oh, gee. They're getting gunpowder all over the place. I totally can't see what's going to happen next." "Come on! You can't just roll up the Declaration of Independence like that- it's almost two hundred and fifty years old! It'd crackle and turn to dust if you even looked at it wrong!"

-I had some weird dreams last night. They involved me 1) killing a lot of bugs, 2) throwing a jar of sunflower seeds at a tri-fold science project poster so my academic paper could be published in a national periodical, 3) purchasing $3 worth of gum with my credit card and shouting "I don't have a job!" at the clerk, and 4) being chased around the docks of some eastern seaboard Costco by an entity that was alternately some Egyptian guy, Martha Stewart, and that creepy girl from The Grudge, you know, the one that makes that clicking noise and crawls toward Buffy the Vampire Slayer? Apparently I had learned of some sinister plot while strolling past one of the ships, and was trying to get to the Costco manager's office to tell him before I was killed.

-One more thing before I go: if only all websites were this clear. (Via Mimi Smartypants)