Virginia Moon

The snow is melting like the contents of an unplugged freezer. It makes me sad... all that wasted food.

I've been playing a fair amount of ping pong this past month. Considering that my dorm is so close to the Rec. Center, it makes sense that I would occasionally take a brisk stroll through the doors and pick up a paddle. Kierkegaard and I do best of sevens quite often, and then make those best of sevens into best of sevens. The final evolution of this trend seems to be a best of three of the best of seven of the best of seven, thus a total of 32 games need to be won in order to win. I wonder if we'll finish this marathon before we depart our ways for the west. And for the record Stew, I'm going to pwn you. Pass that on to Jeff as well. Adam, you were never a threat, though I still try to bust out your fancy "face on the table, get psyched up" topspin serve.

Now that I've satisfied the egos of the western readers, I'll recap some past events of recent times.

Flarrgen.

Not much has happened. I'm going to study. More coherent entries to come soon.

Oh, and "Virginia Moon" is a song by the Foo Fighters in where the lovely, talented and future fiancé of James Harskamp, Norah Jones, sings back up to a nice acoustic melody.

Tigers.