"O-per-ator, oh could you help me make this call?"...

A classic Jim Croce song. Surprisingly, not many people have heard it, or of Jim Croce for that matter. I find this odd... which is why it is today's topic and matter at hand. Kids my age these days listen to the most bizarre things. (Sidenote: I'm turning 21 this year, and yes, I refer to myself as a kid. Heck, visit me in 20 more years and I'll probably still be referring to myself as a kid...at least at heart). Sometimes when it's just my 13 yr.-old younger sister and I driving in the car, I'll flip the radio station around in order to expose her to what I call "the good stuff." Before I go any further, I'll admit that I understand that not everyone enjoys or listens to the same types or genres (if you will) of music or have the same taste in music. However, I find it odd that somehow, I was able to discover that I'm quite the fan of the same music that each of my parents enjoy... or at least the stuff that they listened to at my age. It boggles my mind that some people won't even give this stuff a chance. At about 6:45 this morning, I was driving to track practice in a fog cloud. And until I flipped the radio dial to KOST 103.5 only to hear the famous Andy Gibb's (of the Bee Gees) "I just want to be your everything," I was basically in a fog. Possible pun intended. The moment that song come on the radio, I kind of jumped a little in the driver's seat, because: a) I was completely alone in my car, and was going to be able to sing my heart out, b) it was 6:45 and still dark out, and I needed something to spark my mood before our long run at practice, and c) it's a great song! I will admit that some songs throughout the decades can appear or (in this case) sound cheesy or corny. But I think that's where the magic comes from. And if you truly listen to the lyrics themselves and absorb the point that the artist is trying to make, most often than not, you'll find some deeper meaning to a song that may sound as though it's being sung by a cortet of drunk chipmunks. So, If I may, here's some suggestions for you...

1. "Operator" and "This Time" by: Jim Croce
2. Anything by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young (pre-band-break up)
3. Anything by the Allman Brothers... but preferably "Night Rider" and "Melissa" (ironic?... I think not)

First Day of School

I woke up this morning at 7 a.m., and then reluctantly hit the snooze button on my cell phone, in order to allow my eyes a few more glorious minutes behind my eyelids. Knowing what lay before me today on this first day back at school, I knew that I couldn't sleep past 8 o'clock. I needed to get to school by 9 in order to snag my ideal parking spot, lock my bike up by Crawford Hall, hop on the elliptical for 20-30 minutes, and then head off to my first class of the day at 11 a.m. My agenda for the day was a full-proof plan. Little did I know, that my parking lot was being used and occupied by the University of Texas football team, who was using our athletic facilities to train on, prior to playing in the up-and-coming Rose Bowl game in Pasadena. Nevertheless, I was obliged to pay a whole 8 dollars to park in the nearest parking structure for the remainder of the day. Talk about a scam.

After I was suckered into purchasing a parking permit, I made my way over to the athletic trainer's room with high hopes of having a decent elliptical session. But again, little did I know that the trainer's room would be blockaded by security and police enforcement--due to the presence of U. Texas' football team on campus. Once again, much like how I was deterred from parking in my usual and convenient (not to mention, illegal) parking spot, I was again prevented from even entering my school's athletic training room-- at least until 1:30 p.m.-- completely defeating the purpose of arriving to school at 9 a.m. But I'm still solid, and in one piece. I wasn't going to let this "off" morning shake me.

I decided that I would merely elliptical after our 2 p.m. track practice. Coincidentally, come 2 p.m., our team wasn't even able to meet for our first official track practice of the season at our own track. The Texas team had it blocked off as well. Holy Moses.

My first class starts in an hour. At 11 a.m. I will get a taste of whether or not I'm even interested in the topic or theme that this English 102 class has to offer me. Then, I can decide whether or not I want to drop the class. Hopefully 19th Century Melodrama will be as interesting as I imagine it to be. Unfortunately, it wasn't. I'll probably drop the class this evening.

I'm a little cold right about now. I have a pair of running tights in my track backpack--which also just so happens to be filled to the brim with my pleasure reading, running shoes, 2 extra t-shirts, my day planner, i-pod, my trusty hairbrush that I use (only) for putting my hair in a pony-tail, and other miscellaneous-yet-necessary items. But I won't be able to change into my tights until after track practice is over, and I'm headed to my younger sister's basketball game around 7 p.m. Even if I didn't change, it wouldn't be the first time I've worn my short maroon-colored running shorts out in public. It's just about noon, and my second class is just about to begin. I can't help but think about how the rest of the day will pan out...