Free Somewhere Over the Rainbow, I've Lost My Damn Mind: A Manic's Mood Chart by Derek Thompson Page B

humor was in the title of this blog; pathetic.
    Doesn’t it seem like when you’re lower than low, that’s when everything starts to come together? At about that time in the night, on stage, Kevin Fox said these few words:
    “ So this song is about me in high school not being able to get laid. It’s called ‘Doesn’t Do It.’ ”
    I instantly started to crack up (it hit real close to home) and continued laughing through the entire song. 1. Laugh . Jimmy V was right. I really hadn’t done anything throughout the day, but it was a full day.
     
    Session
    JP: God, I remember the first time I lost my virginity; it was by no means beautiful or in any way special.
    DT: Please stop, I don’t want to know any more about this because I’m pretty sure it will only make me feel even worse about my V-Card.
    JP: Too bad, you get to vent all the time and now it’s my turn. It was my freshman year in high school in my neighbor’s shed, with a fellow band member who played the flute, named Helen. And let’s just say polyester band uniforms back then were not the most breathable material, and things got really hot and really sticky really quickly.
    DT: Yep, I was right; even though that’s pretty gross, I’m still jealous. It’s probably due to the fact that you lost your virginity to a girl well before me, and you don’t even like girls.
     
     
    KEY TERMS: MOPPING UP FOOLS, NKOTB, THREE SHEETS , BE MYSELF
    Submitted on 7/21/09
    Green
     
    I’m not sure about other people, but there are essentially two times that I ever really get the desire to cut a rug, bring the funk, or otherwise showcase (or not) my skills of dance. The first of these two usually has slim to no consequences after said demonstration of dance moves, and that’s when I’m totally alone. When I think I’m alone, I’m usually correct on that assumption, but there are two exceptions to the rule.
    The first exception happened my freshman year in college, when I had just transferred from Marietta College up to Wittenberg for a multitude of reasons that really have no relevance to this story, so I’ll tuck those away for a rainy day. I transferred mid-year and had only been at Witt for about a week and didn’t know many people aside from a few in my classes. Like any other normal NKOTB, I wanted to make a good first impression whenever I could.
    So I was on my way back down to Marietta the first weekend of the spring semester (my first at Witt) to grab some things I had left, when I came to the realization that I was alone in my Jeep (Jeep Wave) so I began bringing my funk via Nelly’s “Luven Me”; interesting song choice, I know. I was dominating that front seat with my moves for a good few minutes or so when I looked over at the car next to me at the stoplight--busted. Laughing hysterically at me was a very attractive girl from my psychology class. Awesome first impression.
    During my entire day in the San Jose airport, awaiting my return flight back to the Emerald City, there were some interesting things going on in my head, and one of those things was a feeling of oneness or wholeness or some sort of connectivity with everything. To express this feeling, I was “lucky enough” to find an observation deck attached to the terminal outside the airport, where I could go to dance. Most people probably use it to watch the planes fly in or take smoke breaks, but where’s the fun in that?
    I spent a good hour or so (not too sure how long as the feeling of timelessness set in again) busting my moves on the top of that observation deck, pausing only for inbound and outbound planes. No one was around, so I felt totally comfortable with the display of random body convulsions known as my dance moves. I’m sure the video surveillance tape of me “dancing” on the observation deck is a cult classic at all of the San Jose airport’s holiday parties.
    The other times I feel like dancing are when I am Three Sheets (great show, BTW) to the wind. When I’m at