My Saturday Night

Kathrya, your commenting system is down, so I suppose I'll have to use this as my mode of communication.

I spent my Saturday night babysitting for my neighbors, Quincy and Quentin. I studied for physics while we ate dinner, then I went to get out the court cases I had to read for gov, only to discover that I brought the worksheet with me but left the cases at home. My plans for productivity thwarted, I resigned myself to actually socializing with the kids.

Quentin, however, had other plans. He spent somewhere in the range of three to four hours playing Roller Coaster Tycoon 3. I knew that I should have kicked him off the computer, but, really, why you consider the amount of time I spend browsing the internet, it felt hypocritical. Besides, Roller Coaster Tycoon does teach basic economics and physics, which I'm sure is good for him.

Quincy and I spent the entire time watching an iCarly marathon. It involved a lot of bad pranks, crazy siblings, fights among friends, and a ridiculous amount of unsatisfied sexual tension (or whatever it is UST stands for). I mean, seriously, Freddie and Sam kissed in the first episode we saw, then the second one made no mention of it, then in the third one there was a huge fight about said kiss, and then in the next one he kissed Sam's twin sister, who he actually thought was Sam, and then in the entire movie they pretended that the last three episodes hadn't even happened. I mean, seriously, Nickelodeon, if you're going to go to the trouble of creating a massive romantic subplot, you might as well actually include said subplot in your hour long movie!

Not that I enjoyed iCarly at all. I am a mature young adult, oxymoronic though that is. I have more uppity tastes. Like Glee. Which is, like, so much more mature than iCarly. I feel like Kim from Bye Bye Birdie on Friday, a flat chested twelve year old with the characteristic orthodontic lisp, singing about how lovely it is to be a woman, with womanly curves and no more braces.

Okay, so I kind of enjoyed the TV show at least as much as Quincy did. Then, after she went to bed, I left it on the same channel so that I could fast forward the commercials. She wasn't feeling well, so she came back down and caught me watching something involving dancing singing guys who were supposed to be 16 year old JoBro clones, but more closely resembled an aging NSYNC. I believe that I have officially undermined my own authority.