Ruffles Have Ridges

Some of you may think I'm a good source for wisdom and guidance. Most of you know better, but for the rest of you...I'm on campus right now, having just finished meeting up for a group project, going to dinner with a friend in the area at 7, and didn't at all foresee the possibility that maybe those two events wouldn't meet as smoothly as I'd hoped. And so I brought along...no work! Not the two short stories I have to read and comment on. Not the sheet that tells me what the journal entry is to be about. Nothing! So now I've got...twoish hours. Good times.

Now I'm just waiting for people to leave the Quiet Room (a food-free zone) so I can loudly munch on my Ruffles, a potato chip I have not enjoyed in some time. Over the summer I became a convert to Tim's Cascade, but they're a NW-only chip, and so over here I proudly consume Cape Cod. But even Lays (you should really click on that one) I've had recently. But Ruffles? I think you'd have to go back a year or two. Senior Year I ate them all the time, but I can't think of a time since.

It used to be really easy to refer to high school, 'cause if I referenced "Sophomore Year" or "Freshman Year" you couldn't really confuse it with college, but now when I talk about "the summer after Sophomore Year" I have to note which one. Post-graduation life will blow.

So the other day (this'd be Friday), my roommate Gray and I were sitting in the theater, waiting for No Country for Old Men to start, when they inexplicably started playing this fantastic chick pop group. "Who could this be," I asked. "Oh, The Pipettes," Gray said. "They're awesome." "Are they ever!," I said, "I want to put this on and listen to it all day!" They only got like halfway through some song I don't recall specifically, but that was it, man - now I'm listening to this thing repeatedly. They're so fantastic and I can't believe they even exist. They're sort of a throwback to 60s chick pop groups (like The Supremes, The Chiffons, The Crystals, The Ronettes, etc.), but they sort of amp it up...almost power-pop, but just on the edge. And they're "about" section on their website immediately dismisses The Beatles to discuss (read: worship) Phil Spector, which is a good way to immediately endear yourself to me. And God damn are they great. I know I'm hardly the first person to say this, but I swear this music was made just for me.

Of course, I still have an uphill battle to convince the world that "Then He Kissed Me" by The Crystals is one of the greatest songs ever written.

Only a week and a half until I can listen to Christmas music and not get crap for it! I need to get a fake tree, too...I wonder what that'd cost to mail order...

Amazon will sell me a three-footer for $20. I think I'll take that.

Since I've been in here, two people have left. Two to go (I'm not counting the guy in the corner who's sleeping).

Yeah, all these other places are pretty spendy...one sells a four-footer for $150. Jesus.

After all the crap on the last few weeks, I was great concerned I would become one of those people who takes life seriously. But so far, not such business has occurred. Thank God.

The last two guys left, and ten minutes later a chick came in. I got like three chips in between all that. Goodbye chips! They weren't as good as I remember anyway...