One Hundred and Sixty, Contra

Dancing something called the Contra - Free on first go, $3 for each subsequent visit.

Seeing one of the Kids - whatever a tank of gasoline costs to drive an hour and half.

Wearing yourself out and then getting only three hours of sleep before your 7:30 surgery the following day? Priceless

One Hundred and Fourty, Dazed and Not Confused

I love moving my body to music. But having had little experience in unknown crowds with it, I get a bit apprehensive about it. Amongst people I know and care about it's much easier and if they happen to be dancing as strangely as I manage, even better. The Beatnik has a saying, "Indians dance whiter than white guys." I think that says it all. Yet whenever I'm with him and the others that comprise my companionship and we're all being goofy, I don't care as much; and it's awesome.

One Hundred and Thirty-nine, Obdurate?

For years, I have this little game of hiding my birthday from the world and congratulating those who successfully remembered it. Some part of me was joyful at this minor power play to see who would be as psuedo-OCD as me and keep track of my birthday. Another part of me just didn't care as much. Growing up birthdays were signified by a sumptuous meal and a visit to the temple. Yeah, my American friends would have grandiose parties and eventually I tried emulating them but my heart was never in it.

This year my birthday will be lost in a weekend where I will be helping throw a charity concert and resting from a hectic week and driving home for a couple nights. One of my best friends is in Texas; the other in California. What I want doesn't necessarily factor into what I get. I want second year to be over and a month off before starting third year rotations. Instead, I'll be working hard to pass my classes. I'll be working hard to pass Step 1 of my Board Exams. I want to go to Chris' town where a gathering will commence on the first of the next month. Instead I'll probably be doing some much-needed vegging-out after a heavy week of studying. I want to be fifteen again. Instead I'll be turning twenty-six.

One Hundred and Ten, Music Movement

"Every now and then I wonder where it went. It used to be all golden and lovely and now it's some sort of decaying mess. No, that's wrong, there's nothing wrong with it, rather I'm the one who screwed it up, went off the deep end. They always said I involved myself too much, I never learned to stay out of things I couldn't comprehend. Yeah, it's true. But you know what? I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Despite the breakdown that inevitably occurs, the vitality the intervening experiences bring rejuvenates me. Make me who I am and I won't deny myself that pleasure even at the expense of the great letdown at the end. Such is my life and I will bear with it."

Sounds like an idealistic martyr, doesn't it? Or a junkie.

I attended my fifth concert ever last night! It was some band I'd never heard of (surprise) and they were pretty good! I watched the people there moving with the music and liked seeing other people who felt the same way I did about the music. I don't have fancy moves to music, just the simple head/body bob and the foot tap. But closing your eyes and making those simple movements to the music is quite relaxing. In reality I guess the compressed sound hits upon my eardrum activating pathways to the brain which simultaneously spits out tons of dopamine if my body moves to the beat. And because of that chemical substance, it's wonderful. Oh yeah, I get high on music, don't you?

In other news, today is the Beatnik's 24th birthday. The Engineer drove up with plans on getting him sloshed tonight. [raises non-alcoholic glass] Here's to you two and good times!