I'm currently at the Duffy House, listening to the song "Over and Over" by Hot Chip, a band I could've seen live this summer, had I not decided to instead stand in front of a stage that would soon house the Strokes, pouting childishly because Brian Malone had jinxed me. It's a really cool song, but admittedly, it's very repetitive. It's not like Hot Chip would deny this, either. The chorus of the song acknowledges this perceived flaw and embraces.
"Over and over and over and over and over, like a monkey with a miniature cymbal, the joy of repetition really is in you."
"The joy of repetition," it says. The word repetition makes me think of school, or the bulk of Pokemon games, or work. It's not a positive word. It's boring, tiring. It's a family dinner you can't get away from. Hot Chip makes a case for it here. Maybe sarcastically, they deliver that line in a really monotone voice, but hey. If they're not making that case, I am.
Case in point, here I am at the duffy house where 5 of the frisbee guys live. A house 2 blocks away from campus, 15 minutes away from my dorm, and approximately 5 minutes away via my new bicycle. The front door is always unlocked. When you get here, you walk in, you do not knock. They mock you if you knock. From where I'm sitting I can see 11 frisbees, 2 wide screen tv's (both of which are currently being used), 4 speakers for their stereo system, and 2 identical Halo: Reach posters. The walls are a dirty beige color, and they have a bumpy texture. So... It's like a filthy, bumpy layer of eggnog. Over the walls and the ceiling. Ideal. I come here probably 3 or 4 times a week. Coming here means one of three things. Either A) I am sitting building my impressive-yet-utterly-futile-in-the-face of-the-godlike-Robert-Langellier Mario Kart skills, B) playing Black Out with varying degrees success, or C) picking up the tuxedo I consistently leave at their house before I go to a choir concert.
Going over to the duffy house isn't the most exciting thing in the world, but it's full of people that I like, and it's comfortable, familiar. By this point it's become a tradition for me to head over there. It's something that happens all the time, but I want it to happen. It's practically unimaginable that one could live a life devoid of repetition. How many new experiences do you have, daily? I didn't do anything completely new today, that's for sure. But I had a good time. I controlled my repetitions. I repeated the events I wanted to experience again, like going over to the duffy house, or laughing at someones misfortunes. (today: the janitors at the school of music when I put 20 empty cardboard boxes in/around the same trash can, shifting my burden to them. Yesterday: Someone not gifted with my looks, talent, or talent.)
For a week when I was 9 or 10, Peter Eck and Nick Dietrich and I watched Kung Pow: Enter The Fist! every damn day. There was a week when we did pretty much nothing but that. I would like to act like that wasn't true, but fellas you know I'm not fronting no fuckin' lie.
Starting in middle school, every half day a bunch of my friends and I would meet at D&J's cafe, a diner near my house. We would go there, overtip the waitress because we hadn't learned the value of money yet, head back to my place, and play Guitar Hero and a variation on 4 square called Cobra-Ball. I was predictably unstoppable at Cobra-ball, one of the many instances of life foreshadowing my eventual evolution into the ultimate athlete.*
FFFF.
Creating chaos and anarchy for several of my high school teachers with my eternal side-kick/love interest? Mada Larson. We got into a fight in which I swept the feet out from underneath her in order to get a nickel that I craved, that I needed. We chased eachother out of her room, down from her 4th floor tower to the 2nd floor when we policed ourselves, deciding we should head back up. She shrugged when we walked back in.
Improv sleepovers, and the inevitable temper tantrum I throw around 4 or 5 A.M. GET READY FOR THAT, FUTURE WIVES.
The 4 - 5 hour practice Band Practice always has before a gig because we didn't have time and we didn't have time and we didn't time until shiiiit we're playing a show tonight, guys.
Steak n' Shake. Dear god, Steak n' Shake. SOMEONE IN ILLINOIS GO EAT STEAK N' SHAKE ASAP. DO IT FOR ME.
Being irresistible.*
There are traditions here, too. They have traditions in Oklahoma, I shit you not. Every Tuesday, Thursday** and Sunday I have ultimate practice. Tuesdays and Thursdays after practice upperclassmen bully me and push me into lockers until I take them to the legendary cafeteria. Every week or so we have (lowercase) band practice. After every band practice we play racquetball which is good and fun, especially when you make up rules that would, if discovered, undoubtedly get your equipment privileges taken away. This burrito place here, Freebirds, has this cute little tradition of telling me that it will soon be ending it's half-off student discount, but then it sees the fire in my eyes and walks its cute, submissive ass straight to the cash register, where they give me the half-off student discount.
All of these things I love. All of these things I value. All of these things I'm glad to see come and go, if not daily, then weekly, or monthly, or whenever we have time. Sometimes I don't have the time, or sometimes I'm just forgetful, and sortof a bad friend. Too often a tradition has died, or I've missed a regular lunch date with a friend because I just didn't put enough effort into making sure it would survive/I'd be awake. I'm sorry, I'm perpetually sorry.
This break, I will play Final Fantasy with two of my bestest friends. Mada and I will eventually return to SHS and burn it down or something unspeakably cool like that. Freebirds will continue to give me my goddamn discount. Soon, a D&J's will occur. I'll make sure of it.
Peter and Nick though, we uh probably shouldn't watch Kung Pow ever again. I'm afraid of realizing how much time we wasted.
*As determined in a recent game of Likewise
**Who gives a fuck about an Oxford Comma?
Showing posts with label Steak N Shake. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Steak N Shake. Show all posts
Friday, December 3, 2010
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
The King of 4 AM
I am, as in my current state, the exception and not the rule. I, as of right now, am TIRED as balls.
Last night I stayed up all night without going to bed. So to counteract that foolishness, I rode up to Champaign this morning for breakfast and was back in time for lunch. I deferred eating, but only because I had previously stuffed my face full of the most delicious pancakes ever. So now, you can catch me at a near-death level of lethargy and exhaustion, and, take a picture, because this, doesn't happen often.
I have this thing. It's like insomnia, but it's different. People with insomnia can't sleep. They hate it. All they want to do is close their eyes, have a dream about something, and wake up where they were before. At least that's what Fight Club tells me. I just... don't really sleep at night. I don't know whether it's a sub-conscious conception that staying up makes me badass or me making up for all the times I lost the battle to stay up past bed time as a child that keeps me from maintaining and striving for a regular sleep schedule. The fact is, I stay up later than you, I sleep in later than you. That makes me cooler than you, but it also makes you more successful than me. Fair? I'd say that's a fair trade off.
I love one-upping people just as much as the next guy, don't get me wrong. But you'll often hear me abstain from conversations of how little sleep people get or how late they stay up. Why? Because it's honestly a little bit embarrassing. Like, seriously? You stayed up until 5 A.M? You stayed in bed until 4 P.M.? What the hell is wrong with you. I don't brag about that. That's embarrassing. That's the disease. What I do is simply give you a moderate middle-ground between what time you stayed up until and what time I actually stayed up until.
What? I don't want you to think I'm weird or something.
I don't know where my nights go. I don't know how I spend my time until at 4:30 in the morning. I know where my days go though, they slip away right through my fingers. As I lie down enjoying whatever fucked up dream is brewing in my head. Speaking of which, Inception looks awesome. Let's go see that together. (Ridiculously off-topic but you were thinking of the wrong kind of fucked up dreams and I know it. Get your mind out of the fucking gutter.)
My inability to go to bed early and wake up accordingly is a MAJOR contributor to my chronic anti-punctuality. It fueled my MLTBL (Most Likely to Be Late) stats and earned me detentions and other problems coupled with the annoying but enjoyable infamy. The late shit has to be cut out for college. However I feel like staying up late is just part of the game by that point. And I am sure I will be an expert on the subject. I no longer need coffee or Monster or a mass Coca-Cola binge to keep me up through til dawn, I just need a reason.
I don't know what it is about the night, but I just like it better. Essentially, the earth is how it would look if the sun were to not exist. It's pacifying. There's nobody on the streets, nobody to bother you, and there's nothing like standing in the middle of a normally busy street at 3:15 and looking both ways, finding no cars in sight. It's just cool to me. I appreciate nature more at night. It's not so unbearably hot. Most of all, I feel like it's time alone in the purest sense we can achieve. Everyone is sleeping, with no time to see me take a 2:30 jog by their house. That moment is when I own this city. I feel like I'm on top of it and seeing and thinking clearly, able to shed all the stressful tumults that will return with the sunrise every day. To me it's therapeutic, like Rob's walking addiction. I just don't sleep. My job doesn't often require me to get up early, so why waste my time? All you can do during the day is whatever everyone else is already doing. At night, when I'm the only one to choose, I can truly do what I want.
There's not often reason for my staying up late. In fact, there's often reason for me to get some sleep. But I just don't like letting the late night hours slip by in fruitless slumber. So I take the night shift upon myself, and I earn the right to fall asleep to avian lullabies. It feels pretty good to turn the clock upside down once in a while, that is, until you have to face the rest of society. Oh well, I can sleep when I'm dead.
So next time you're up unreasonably late, and you feel like complaining to everybody about it the next day, just remember that I undoubtedly stayed up later than you. Bitch.
--Eliot Sill
Last night I stayed up all night without going to bed. So to counteract that foolishness, I rode up to Champaign this morning for breakfast and was back in time for lunch. I deferred eating, but only because I had previously stuffed my face full of the most delicious pancakes ever. So now, you can catch me at a near-death level of lethargy and exhaustion, and, take a picture, because this, doesn't happen often.
I have this thing. It's like insomnia, but it's different. People with insomnia can't sleep. They hate it. All they want to do is close their eyes, have a dream about something, and wake up where they were before. At least that's what Fight Club tells me. I just... don't really sleep at night. I don't know whether it's a sub-conscious conception that staying up makes me badass or me making up for all the times I lost the battle to stay up past bed time as a child that keeps me from maintaining and striving for a regular sleep schedule. The fact is, I stay up later than you, I sleep in later than you. That makes me cooler than you, but it also makes you more successful than me. Fair? I'd say that's a fair trade off.
I love one-upping people just as much as the next guy, don't get me wrong. But you'll often hear me abstain from conversations of how little sleep people get or how late they stay up. Why? Because it's honestly a little bit embarrassing. Like, seriously? You stayed up until 5 A.M? You stayed in bed until 4 P.M.? What the hell is wrong with you. I don't brag about that. That's embarrassing. That's the disease. What I do is simply give you a moderate middle-ground between what time you stayed up until and what time I actually stayed up until.
What? I don't want you to think I'm weird or something.
I don't know where my nights go. I don't know how I spend my time until at 4:30 in the morning. I know where my days go though, they slip away right through my fingers. As I lie down enjoying whatever fucked up dream is brewing in my head. Speaking of which, Inception looks awesome. Let's go see that together. (Ridiculously off-topic but you were thinking of the wrong kind of fucked up dreams and I know it. Get your mind out of the fucking gutter.)
My inability to go to bed early and wake up accordingly is a MAJOR contributor to my chronic anti-punctuality. It fueled my MLTBL (Most Likely to Be Late) stats and earned me detentions and other problems coupled with the annoying but enjoyable infamy. The late shit has to be cut out for college. However I feel like staying up late is just part of the game by that point. And I am sure I will be an expert on the subject. I no longer need coffee or Monster or a mass Coca-Cola binge to keep me up through til dawn, I just need a reason.
I don't know what it is about the night, but I just like it better. Essentially, the earth is how it would look if the sun were to not exist. It's pacifying. There's nobody on the streets, nobody to bother you, and there's nothing like standing in the middle of a normally busy street at 3:15 and looking both ways, finding no cars in sight. It's just cool to me. I appreciate nature more at night. It's not so unbearably hot. Most of all, I feel like it's time alone in the purest sense we can achieve. Everyone is sleeping, with no time to see me take a 2:30 jog by their house. That moment is when I own this city. I feel like I'm on top of it and seeing and thinking clearly, able to shed all the stressful tumults that will return with the sunrise every day. To me it's therapeutic, like Rob's walking addiction. I just don't sleep. My job doesn't often require me to get up early, so why waste my time? All you can do during the day is whatever everyone else is already doing. At night, when I'm the only one to choose, I can truly do what I want.
There's not often reason for my staying up late. In fact, there's often reason for me to get some sleep. But I just don't like letting the late night hours slip by in fruitless slumber. So I take the night shift upon myself, and I earn the right to fall asleep to avian lullabies. It feels pretty good to turn the clock upside down once in a while, that is, until you have to face the rest of society. Oh well, I can sleep when I'm dead.
So next time you're up unreasonably late, and you feel like complaining to everybody about it the next day, just remember that I undoubtedly stayed up later than you. Bitch.
--Eliot Sill
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