Spotify Premium: Like Scour in the 90s, But Legal

Who remembers Scour?

I have vivid memories of working at my college job, sitting at my desk in the office next to my co-worker, Jeff, and one of us getting a song stuck in our head. Off to Scour, to download and listen to something random, like the theme from the A-Team, or some esoteric 80s song, or some freedom rock (turn it up!).

Did I know it was shady? Sure. Did I care? Nope. It was available, and there wasn’t exactly another avenue for me to quench my immediate musical desires back in 1999, and it was before the days of packet-sniffers that would throttle bandwidth or flag me for peer-to-peer activity, so…

Fast forward 18 years to 2017.* When I get Billy Ocean stuck in my head, I pull up Spotify on my work laptop — I pay a subscription fee of about $10 a month for Premium — and search for “Caribbean Queen.” I get an entire compilation album of Billy Ocean’s greatest hits, and I listen to the sounds of elementary school for a good half hour. Unlike some 20 years ago, though, I don’t have to wait 15 minutes for a 3MB mp3 to download over the 10/100 BaseT ethernet connection.

And it’s completely legal.

*Side note: I still can’t get over being 40 years old and so vividly remembering multiple decades.

Sprinkled some cinnamon and nutmeg in my iced latte and was transported back to my days at BGSU, hanging out with @wamydia at @gftbg.

RIP, College Laundry Basket

My 20-year-old laundry basket met its fateful end during an exceptionally early morning with Connor and Daddy.

It was literally twenty years old. I’d bought it at Target, I believe, when my step-Dad, Tom, and I were buying the things I’d need for college life. The oscillating fan we bought during that same trip met its fate several years back, when one of the blades randomly flew off while the fan was running.

The laundry basket hadn’t been in the best shape for a while, with a few cracks and bendy spots. After Aaron kicked it in a fit of sleep-deprived rage, though, the brittle plastic shattered into pieces that he later found in the upstairs hallway, in our bedroom, in Connor’s bedroom, in the upstairs bathroom, even in the foyer downstairs.

When it went, it went with style.

This morning’s #earworm is my college fight song. Hell if I know why. #BGSU #ForwardFalcons (And yes, I know all the words.)

Memories of Rodgers, Part 1

It came to my attention this week, via an invitation from BGSU in my inbox, that Rodgers Hall and the two adjacent frat houses are being torn down to make way for a more modern dormitory.

In memory and in honor of the dorm where I lived during the Spring Semester of 1996, I will be posting photos and journal entries, along with remembered stories from my time in Rodgers Hall.

Do Not Enter - 3rd floor Rodgers is in chars3 Feb 96 – Saturday – 4PM

Yesterday afternoon there was a fire in the East Wing of Rodgers. Some chic had a candle sitting on a recliner & set it aflame.

Night before, Mary was pounding to the wall to quiet our neighbors and sent my NA [Northern Aurora Drum & Bugle Corps] picture crashing down onto my nose — it bled for half an hour + is still swollen.

These stories both deserve exposition, as they’re two of the more memorable and classic moments from my time in Rodgers.

The dorm fire happened late on a Friday afternoon, or early evening. I was getting ready to go to a weekend drum corps camp in Saginaw, and was lucky to have gotten my gear out of the building before the Powers That Be evacuated the building and locked the doors. (We never made it to the camp, and ended up back at the dorm late that night, but that’s a story for another day.)

Turned out that a female resident had a candle burning in her room (which was against policy, for the record), and was curled up in a chair with a stadium blanket. She left the candle burning while she went to use the bathroom, and by the time she returned, the candle was smoldering and burning the blanket she’d accidentally thrown on top of it. Luckily for me and my roommate, Mary, the fire was in the East Wing, and we lived in the South Wing, so nothing of ours was damaged. The whole dorm smelled pretty funky for a while, though.

Diana's Swollen Nose

As for my nosebleed… Our next-door neighbor in Rodgers had a boyfriend. At least, we assumed he was a boyfriend. Maybe he was just a fuck-friend, since that’s what they did. A lot.

The first few times, it was amusing. We’d put our ears to the wall and listen — because, really, the sounds of other people fucking can be pretty funny. It’s not so funny, though, when it keeps you awake on a school night. So, to shut them up, Mary was pounding on the wall. Multiple times. Very hard.

So hard, in fact, that the photo propped on the wall above my bed worked its way off of the shelf and fell, landing on my nose in the dark. Not only that, but it landed on one corner, all the weight of a fairly hefty wood and glass frame causing the second nosebleed I’d ever had in my life.

Ironically enough, THAT got them to stop fucking.

Party Like It’s 1996

Drew's Party, 1996

Heather, me, Liz, and Mary at Drew’s party, March/April 1996. (Or thereabouts.)

From back in the days when friends were plentiful and my love with Aaron was new, shortly after Mary introduced the two of us. This party involved watching the Star Wars Christmas Special, drinking Everclear mixers, and playing Risk.

(Taken at the same party this photo was from.)

Exactly 13 years ago… Damn.

Starcraft Memories

From: Diana
Sent: Friday, September 05, 2008 4:13 PM
To: sheryls
Subject: RE: o man

Oh, it was fantastic playing Starcraft with the guys at RCC. We’d go to Kreischer-Compton lab after-hours during the summer, hack the imaged PCs so we could network the game, and play Starcraft in the dark using cloned discs. Jamie would always be the Zerg, and Jamie’s Phish-loving friend Josh would always be the Protoss. And I’d always be Human, and there were other people who’d rotate in and out, like Kirkum and Gerbil. But one of the humans would finally get nukes, and launch them at Jamie’s Zerg, and everyone’s computer would calmly say, “Nuclear launch detected.” And Jamie would ALWAYS half-stand up and say, “WHAT THE FUCK?!” And we’d all look for the tiny red dot that tells you where the nuke’s going to land.

Good times. 😀

My Weight History

I got to thinking about the home videos I digitized from back in 1999, and how the first thing that pops into my mind when I see that image of myself is how fat I was. I was 23 years old, in a stable relationship, living with a roommate who had become my best friend, spending the holidays with my family, generally happy overall — and all I can see now, looking back, is my weight.

That’s sad on so many levels…

Home On The Range

We go camping at Harrison Lake tomorrow afternoon. Neither myself nor Aaron have been really camping since Scouts back in elementary school 1, so this should be fun.

We’ve got our s’mores action going on, our new king-size air mattress to go in our never-used dome tent we got as a wedding present back in 2003, our lawn chairs and bug spray and swimsuits and sunscreen and everything (hopefully) to help us get our camping fun on.

I hope this doesn’t suck. This is more of a trial run, hence why we’re only camping for one night. If we enjoy camping, maybe we’ll do it more often. Until we’re sure, though, 3pm Sunday through noonish Monday should be a sufficient getaway.

Update, Sunday @ noon: It’s been raining since 8am. Chance of scattered thunderstorms all afternoon, all evening, and all night. Prospects aren’t looking good… but maybe we’ll pack up the car and head out, anyway, to see what Harrison Lake is like. We’ll see how things pan out….

1 This, of course, is not including the ill-fated October camping trip of the girls of 2nd floor Kohl Hall back in 1999. Amy and I were the only people with competent fire-building skills, and our RA had to purchase firewood from a neighboring RV camper. An unseasonably warm October turned coats that night, and none of us got any sleep that chilly autumn night. What had started as an “I don’t want to *know* if you have alcohol in your tent, *wink-wink*” party night ended as a 5am “Let’s get back to the dorm and get some sleep” morning.