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Tag Archives: How I Met Your Mother

What’s the Prognosis, Doctor?

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April is drawing to a close and May is just around the riverbend. Which means today was a No Man’s Land kind of day. You know – when you’ve got work that you could or really should work on now, but isn’t due for a week or two, class that ended early, and almost an entire a day ahead of you to enjoy the sunshine and warm weather. Well, it at least applies to me.

I was let out early from both of my classes today, so I had more time on my hands than I’m used to. I went to a Thai restaurant called Isle on Bleecker St with my friend Nicole, and by the time I got back to my room, was so worn out that I took a nap. The downside to all of this good weather (and there is one), is that I have suddenly acquired the buds of an illness. Put simply: I feel sick. Sore throat, hot-headed, and tired. I think it’s allergies. Okay, I’m praying it’s all because of allergies. I don’t need strep throat, or to be one of the rare cases of people who gets mono twice. It’s almost finals time! [On a side note: Yahoo answers is probably not the best source for information regarding medical treatment. ] Which also reminds me, why isn’t Doogie Howser, M.D. on Netflix? I could use some inspirational end of day journaling by a young NPH.

I couldn’t find any good clips of the actual show, but here’s NPH spoofing his role as Doogie on “How I Met Your Mother.”

Anyways, here’s another poem I wrote. It’s a lighter, cuter poem. I think it’s my favorite, but I say that only because I haven’t written another I love as much yet.

“Boundaries”

Let’s draw up a line of
Demarcation. Divided, we own
everything.
 
You own the bookshelves,
the TV, the closet space.
I take the desks, the chairs,
the posters. 
 
You can have the shoes, but the soles are mine.
The pens and pencils – they are yours,
as I will pocket the computer keys.
 
I call the pillows, and you the sheets.
The books are mine, but the words
are for your eyes only. 
 
I want the lamps, but you won’t let me
have them.
 
You see,
you are light enough to keep me
from crying out in fright at night,
when I remember that monsters
hide underneath our bed.

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Dead Snow.

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Another weird dream last night. The first half had something to do with a natural disaster, I think. I know that I was standing at my door, looking out to towards the end of my street, where I noticed a huge wall of water. It wasn’t rushing towards the house, but had stopped at the end of my street, as though it was waiting for something. For what? I have no clue. Weirdest part was when my family and neighbors – excluding me – decided it was a good idea to run out and wave to the…wave. Thinking this odd, like I am now, I could see into the now transparent block of water. And I saw many dolphins. Just dolphins, swimming around while everyone I knew gathered to marvel at the spectacle. Okay, because that’s normal…

Who loved Flipper, too?

 

Then the dream switched. Or I woke up, hit snooze and fell back to sleep, into another dream. This time, I found myself stuck in a mine or labyrinth with two people I recognized and a few randos I’ve probably only talked to once or twice before. We were on a mission of some sort, equipped with various blunt objects and garden tools. (Can you see where this is going?) Hunting Zombies. Or fighting them. Either way, they weren’t on our side, and we had weapons. One person in the group thought that they were actually trying to negotiate peace. That person was deemed as a fool. There’s no happy medium when it comes to the cannibals who’ve already died. I’m not really sure how I wound up back in my garage, asking my dad to help me find zombie-killing tools, when I had just been underground – but hey, that’s the subconscious for you. I made it back to the group, somehow, before the battle commenced. Then I woke up.

So, Zombies again. Seriously, what’s with me having dreams about the undead? Or living dead, for that matter. I couldn’t help but feel like I was caught in between scenes of  Dawn of the Dead/Night of the Living Dead, The Descent, and The Mummy. I feel like it would be a stretch to try to interpret this. So I won’t.

In continuing my dream/subconscious thought theme, I watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind again. Michel Gondry, you are a master of messing with my mind. This time, though, it really got to me. I’m slightly wounded after watching it. Hopefully, I’ll get better, but it left me more pensive than I should be in the morning. I have to ask: If given the chance, would you ever erase someone from your memory, because you got bored, or because you were desperate to start over? How much of your life would you be erasing, based on the person?

See what I mean? I’m thought-provoked, and it’s distracting.

Something else that’s distracting: SNOW. Winter’s coming. Everyone’s already putting it in their Facebook status. Better bring out the mittens, heavy coats, drink hot chocolate with marshmallows, tell fire-side stories, snuggle in your snuggies, and sing carols. And don’t forget to snow-suit up!

 

Nothing Good Happens After 2 a.m.

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Okay, okay, I may have one logical explanation as to why I’ve been having such odd dreams this week. I can’t remember last night’s as much but I do know I woke up going “What the hell WAS that” while trying to shake the drowsiness from not getting enough sleep. I think it’s because I’ve been staying up late, writing entries because I am somehow compelled to write whatever comes to mind.

What’s the latest you’ve stayed up at night? Were you drunk and out with friends? Were you studying for an exam or writing an essay due the next day? Were you waiting to watch the sunrise? Were you unable to fall asleep?

There’s an episode of How I Met Your Mother titled “Nothing Good Happens After 2 A.M” that I always think of when I’m either out past 2 in the morning, or faced with a difficult decision. If you’re not familiar with the show, I suggest you go and watch it in the near future, or borrow the 1st season from me. For those of you who won’t do such a thing, I’ll elaborate. (Spoilers) Season 1 : Ted is the kind of guy who just wants to be married. Ted meets Robin at their local bar and falls instantly in love with her. They seem to hit it off, but Ted blows it when he tells Robin how he feels; she gets scared and they both agree to be friends. Ted cools off for a while, and finds himself drawn to a woman named Victoria. They connect instantly and start dating. Robin seems fine, but she’s harboring some feelings for Ted when she sees him and Victoria together. A business endeavor calls Victoria away to Germany, leaving Ted alone and confused. Now we’re up to speed.

The episode has two story lines: one in which Ted is convinced – and for good reason – that nothing good happens after 2 am; and the second in which Ted’s friend Barney (Neil Patrick Harris – love him) tries to convince their married friends, Lily and Marshall, that good things CAN happen after 2 am.

So incidentally, it’s 2 am as I’m writing all of this down. I should be getting into bed, wrapping covers around me and hoping sweet dreams of sugar plum fairies will soon fill my head. But I’m not. My mind is on hyperdrive. The scouter would probably say my brain wave levels are over 9,000.

In thinking about this mantra that I find myself repeating constantly, I remembered a video I had watched over the summer. It’s a TED talk about coincidences throughout history that have occurred around 4 a.m. Which is such an odd time, if you think about it. What things happen after 4 am? Why is this such a common and prevalent time in history?

I know I stayed up all night once when I was younger, to watch the sunrise, half watching Twister on television followed by multiple other terrible tornado movies. I never looked at the clock though, so time escaped me. I’ve also walked back to my apartment in the middle of the summer at 5 am because the ACE only ran every 45-65 minutes, not counting the time spent on the subway train. By the time I could have gotten a cab instead, the train would come creeping into the station and I’d be as much frustrated by its presence as relieved.

So it’s probably because I stay up later than I should that my dreams are rampant with bizarre plots and characters. Or maybe it’s the light from the computer screen giving me a headache. I just want to write it all down, whether or not something good has happened.

Here’s the talk.

I’m off to sleep, goodnight. 14 days! (also, Remember, remember, the fifth of November.)