They do watch football here.

They do watch Football at NYU lucky for me that no one in my direct vicinity was overwhelmingly interested. There was a little noise from a few televisions down the hall and a few subtle moans, otherwise no one was bothersome and there was no overt testosterone provoked nonsense going on. Unless, of course I misinterpreted the moans, which I suppose is possible, although most people close their doors in that situation.

Took a quick trip to Hunter Mountain with my brother and Anna, my brothers new girlfriend, and a friend of my brothers, whom we will call, (boring rhetorical conversationalist), Sam. Sam happens to go to NYU too and believe me it is no great loss that I have not met him until this weekend as although a more annoying, sanctimonious twenty � one year old probably does exist somewhere in the world Sam is most likely the winner of that category in NYC. He goes to Stern so I can forgive him in some way as my roommate last year also was a business major of some kind and the sel

f righteous attitude is prevalent. His conversation included random political ramblings of a right leaning nature which he could not back up with a single fact and he had no sense of humor. Thank God for Anna and like Josh wtf where did this guy come from? I do not know where my brother has obtained his list of friends over the last four years but he is very eclectic in this regard. If the guy had been funny, interesting or clever it would have been ok but he was neither funny interesting nor clever, just boring beyond belief in his self importance. There were a couple of other interesting characters along but I spent most of the day with Anna and Josh and my friend from Connecticut Louisa, whom I love and adore.

She grew up in Vermont and I knew her when I was very young and became reacquainted with her two years ago while visiting my brother in Connecticut. No matter I got some exercise and had a pretty good time on the slopes and we rode home and it appears my old Bikini Kill CD had found it�s way into my brothers car we rode home singing Sugar.

Sure it is the kind of song you were singing with your girlfriends in ninth grade really loud but it was funny anyway and I used to love bikini kill so shoot me.

I wish it was feasible to have my car here but it isn�t. I had tons to do last night when I started writing this so I had to give it up and start my work. I had to pick a project theme for my large format photo class and rewrite a paper that was due in an Anthro class and so I had to stop in the middle of this and save it for today. The problem is the train of thought is gone and a new day a new journal comes to mind. This becomes boring and I want to delete it but I won�t. Does anyone really care which commercial was the best during the Super Bowl? I always wonder about that. They are commercial�s for God sake. I didn�t watch it and I only caught one or two commercials and can�t say I was impressed. I did not catch much the half time either but what I saw was boring as hell and I hear there is a call to bring back Janet Jackson next year. We all know Paul is dead anyway and has been since way before most of us were born? No? Are you sure? Do you even care? If he is not dead he certainly plays like he is. Give me Mick Jagger any day despite the fact that he too is beginning to look like a corpse.