February 2011

The city that launched a thousand entirely non-sensical and uncalled-for song lyrics. Nome.

It is t-minus 36 hours until a chapter of my master’s thesis is due and we’ve entered the dangerous, rewriting-lyrics-to-songs phase of the process.

For those of you who haven’t written a master’s thesis (or, more to the point, for those of you who aren’t LUNATICS) I’ll explain.

It starts out innocently enough. Punchy from hours staring at a computer and days without wearing real pants, I casually change the lyrics to a song I’m writing about:

Tell the folks in Nome, what you’re doing Roger

I’m finding one sled dog.

My roommate laughs nervously. Not only isn’t it funny but it doesn’t actually make much sense… or rhyme with anything really. But at least I’ve stopped talking to myself and gotten off the couch.

Little does she know it’s only the beginning.

Two hours later it happens again, this time at least it’s topical. Putting my sweatshirt on to go get my wash from the laundry I serenade her by inventing not one, not two but three unique choruses of Laundromat Races:

Laundromat Races sing this song

Do da do da

Walk to the Laundromat two blocks long

Oh the do da day…

The situation here is grave.

Now, it’s not like this is the first time this has happened. A fateful, undercaffeinated walk in the park several years ago led my last roommate to not only learn all the words to my stirring epic, I Hate My Internet Boyfriend, but also left the tune inexplicably lodged in her brain for weeks afterward; an original melody is hard to shake.

Still, if history tells us anything (and hopefully it tell us something otherwise I have even less of a clue about why I’m getting this master’s degree) it’s that this recent rash of stupid song lyrics is a bad scene. And a sign of much worse things to come…


Photo courtesy of icanhascheezburger.com - They'll thank me when my scholarship restores them to their rightful place of glory in the halls of academia...probably.

# 5 – Otherwise horrible tasks suddenly seem strangely appealing to you: “Gosh, when WAS the last time I washed the outside of our windows?”… “Man, I’m excited to get a jump on my taxes!”…”Did someone say the drain needs to be snaked?!?”

#4 – News and information that would normally not appeal to you suddenly becomes vitally important: “Wow, that was a really interesting Jezebel post on things the movies don’t tell you about pregnancy. I’d better go read all 500 of this hilarious foulmouthed baby bloggers’ old posts, even though I am not now (nor do I really have any intention in the next decade of being) pregnant!”

#3 – You start bargaining with yourself the way you might if you had to reason with a toddler…“Alright, let’s make a deal. If you can sit still and write three more sentences to finish this paragraph…” … only the rewards are really, really crappy…“…then you can get up and use the bathroom.”

#2 – You fantasize about funnier, more entertaining research topics and waste time by researching and outlining them more effectively than you’ve prepared for the one you are actually writing…“Is it too late to change my topic to – “LOLCats: The Historical and Social Implications of Cheezburgers”?!”

#1 – It seems like a good idea to start blogging.