Thursday, February 28, 2013
The Pursuits of Triva, Or Trivial Pursuits.
"Trivia Night! Come one, come all, for the most relevant trivia in all the land! Learn only things that you need to know, and absolutely nothing that you don't! Everyone will know, and everyone will win."
Not a terribly enticing advertisment for a trivia night, hm? That's because it really isn't. The point, I feel, of a trivia night, is to not only see how much you know, but how much you don't. A lot of people are thirsty for knowledge, and school isn't the only place you can pick up things like "As of 1990, what was the recorded population of China?" (1,143.3, according to http://www.chinability.com/Population.htm) or "What was Captain Kathryn Janeway's first name prior to Kate Mulgrew taking on the role?" (Nicole. This is not only something I knew, but according to http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Captain_Kathryn_Janeway). See? Some of you may not have known that. Refreshing, isn't it, to learn something new?
I bring this up because I work in a place where we offer up a trivia question every day, with a prize so minor that it really isn't necessarily worth researching. It's nice to know, sure, because you get that ten cents off or whatnot, but it's not really such a worthy prize that people should leave the place frustrated. You'd be surprised, however, at the amount of people who get severely aggrivated at the things they don't know, or who become incredibly defensive at their own lack of knowledge ("Seriously? Why on earth would I know the statute of limitations of medical malpractice in the state of Maine?" (3 years) "Well...maybe you've had bad surgery and may not know you can still sue your doctor."). It's amazing to see the reactions over ten cents off ("That's barely anything!"), and wonder why on earth they even feel the need to try answering if they're downplaying the reward so much.
So many pubs and bars have trivia. I've never been to any trivia nights, nor do I plan to, but the competive sides much be amplified tenfold when people are in large groups and/or completely schnockered (that's right. Schnockered. You get it.). I mean, put people in groups and they become the most irrational idiots possible, and if you add alcohol to the mix they just forget how to be anything at all except the noisiest of fools. No offense intended, of course, to those who do partake. I myself have been known to, although I like to think I just get silly. But I'm never participating in anything like a trivia night or whatever. I'd like to imagine, however, that people at those trivia nights don't exclaim, "Hey! Why the hell do I need to know what the capital of New Hampshire is?" (I won't even suggest that anyone wouldn't know that, although I'm sure...ok. There are people who don't. There are people who don't know the capital of Maine. Or what an ampersand is. But I'm getting away from myself.). I'd like to think that the people at those trivia nights take the trivia as exactly what it is- good, old fashioned fun.
Whatever happened to that? Good, old fashioned fun? Did it go the way of the Game Boy? No longer are we satisfied to simply play with a wooden hoop and a stick? No longer are we satisfied with a trivia question unless it comes complete with a reference? Is this world becoming a 'cite your source' kind of world, when most people can't even write a source page for a term paper without the assistance of some sort of program? Maybe we don't need to know what Agent Dana Scully named her only child, fathered by Fox Mulder (William), but it sure makes it fun to try and guess!
Loosen up. Go to Mainely Brews on a Thursday night (I think between 7-9) and have a blast! Have a burger. Enjoy! And don't get frustrated at yourself if you can't guess the actress who voiced Meg Griffin in season one of 'Family Guy' (Lacey Chabert).
**As you probably noticed, I didn't cite sources for the last few items in parenthesis. The reason for that is...well, I was lazy. I usually take the informaton from wikipedia.com, or my own mind. Google it if you like.**
"Why is it trivia? People call it trivia because they know nothing and they are embarrassed about it."
-Robbie Coltrane
Adventure Time: Coupon Edition
Couponing is an art passed down through generations, originating with the ancient Egyptians, who would often utilize couponing to obtain additional concubines in a buy one get one free offer. Granted, they didn't have actual money, but even a shiny pebble saved is a shiny pebble earned, so the more saved the better! Of course, we all know this is crap. Couponing originated some time long after, and I couldn't begin to tell you when- although it's probably not as cool as the origin story I made up, right?
Well, then. Couponing. Once in a while, years ago, I would see a coupon in my perusal of the Sunday paper (I was looking for the comics. Always.) so I would clip this coupon, and find a fair amount of glee in saving fifty cents (ooooh!) on a package of my favorite string cheese. I mean, my sister's basement looks like Sam's Club Jr, so obviously the world of couponing is one that takes a sharp and savvy mind capable of crunching numbers like nobody's business. My freezer, on the other hand, possesses an amount of meat capable of rendering a man unconscious (seriously- a pork loin over the head? Goodbye, classic baseball bat, hello natural weapon.). But my finds were the products of good deals- not really coupon clipping.
The couponing I speak of, the kind that makes your basement look like a price club and your cupboards ready for attack by the Legion of Doom? That's the price crunching kind, the mathematician-meets-Indiana Jones-type Bargain Hunter kind. These are the people who have the minds for deals, who can see a stack of paper towels on sale for a dollar and say 'Hm. If those are a dollar each and I have a fifty cent off coupon, but the coupons are doubled- and wait! It's another twenty cents off because it's National Paper Towel day!' Those are the people who can tell you how many paper towels you can get for free.
I had a way better example than that...but I'll save that one for "Adventure Time: Extreme Couponing Edition" (Not to say that's much different than this. In fact, it may be exactly the same. In fact...it is.).
Oh- and that original example? I read it to a friend of mine, and she did it out in her head. Which is pretty awesome.
"Oh! I have a coupon for that!" -My Sister.
Well, then. Couponing. Once in a while, years ago, I would see a coupon in my perusal of the Sunday paper (I was looking for the comics. Always.) so I would clip this coupon, and find a fair amount of glee in saving fifty cents (ooooh!) on a package of my favorite string cheese. I mean, my sister's basement looks like Sam's Club Jr, so obviously the world of couponing is one that takes a sharp and savvy mind capable of crunching numbers like nobody's business. My freezer, on the other hand, possesses an amount of meat capable of rendering a man unconscious (seriously- a pork loin over the head? Goodbye, classic baseball bat, hello natural weapon.). But my finds were the products of good deals- not really coupon clipping.
The couponing I speak of, the kind that makes your basement look like a price club and your cupboards ready for attack by the Legion of Doom? That's the price crunching kind, the mathematician-meets-Indiana Jones-type Bargain Hunter kind. These are the people who have the minds for deals, who can see a stack of paper towels on sale for a dollar and say 'Hm. If those are a dollar each and I have a fifty cent off coupon, but the coupons are doubled- and wait! It's another twenty cents off because it's National Paper Towel day!' Those are the people who can tell you how many paper towels you can get for free.
I had a way better example than that...but I'll save that one for "Adventure Time: Extreme Couponing Edition" (Not to say that's much different than this. In fact, it may be exactly the same. In fact...it is.).
Oh- and that original example? I read it to a friend of mine, and she did it out in her head. Which is pretty awesome.
"Oh! I have a coupon for that!" -My Sister.
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
Social Media: Extra! Extra!
Hey! What's this? It's social media, this blog. It's media intended to reach out to you, my peeps, and tell you what's up in my world, or what I think of the world, or what have you. Pretty decent, really- it's kind my own newspaper, but without the smell of fresh ink or the sweat and blood involved in putting out a publication of that caliber.
So many people go through phases where they want a break from the social media circus, as it were, and I once upon a time found myself asking why. Why suddenly take a break from Facebook? It's such a lovely way to keep in touch with friends and family. A great way to find people you may have never found. A way to have your voice heard.
Also a great place to be a bully, an insensitive jackass, or to pretend that four years of being a jerk to someone else never happened. "Let's be friends, person I was never friends with in high school!" Sure. I really want to remind myself of the agony you think is no big deal but left me crying in the bathroom during study hall.
The point is: I don't think it's the social media that's the problem. I don't. I think it's the people who use it as a passive aggressive way to simply carry out their agendas, whatever they may currently be. I don't know about anyone else, but when I use Facebook I don't use it to directly attack anyone else. Yes, I've been known to be passive aggressive too- but that's done. I'm done with using my Facebook for anything other than sharing, caring, and funny pictures of cats.
I'd be a hypocrite to say I'm not guilty of abusing Facebook in exactly the way I've mentioned. I'm sure I have more than I think. But Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, and Livejournal are also social media, and I love to use those for sharing pictures and stories of what I love in life.
I'm sure this isn't news. People are always the problem, irrational as they may be. You tell people not to panic: they panic. You tell them they can have it their way: they want it their way in the MOST obnoxious way possible. It's what people do.
You say something on social media for everyone to see: they probably see it. And other people see it. And their other people see it. It's a shame, really- but sometimes a break is necessary, even if you enjoy it. Because one rock can send a ripple through the whole pond, and it can be seen for a while, depending on the size of the rock.
"On Twitter we get excited if someone follows us. In real life we get really scared and run away." ~Unknown via @mozusa
So many people go through phases where they want a break from the social media circus, as it were, and I once upon a time found myself asking why. Why suddenly take a break from Facebook? It's such a lovely way to keep in touch with friends and family. A great way to find people you may have never found. A way to have your voice heard.
Also a great place to be a bully, an insensitive jackass, or to pretend that four years of being a jerk to someone else never happened. "Let's be friends, person I was never friends with in high school!" Sure. I really want to remind myself of the agony you think is no big deal but left me crying in the bathroom during study hall.
The point is: I don't think it's the social media that's the problem. I don't. I think it's the people who use it as a passive aggressive way to simply carry out their agendas, whatever they may currently be. I don't know about anyone else, but when I use Facebook I don't use it to directly attack anyone else. Yes, I've been known to be passive aggressive too- but that's done. I'm done with using my Facebook for anything other than sharing, caring, and funny pictures of cats.
I'd be a hypocrite to say I'm not guilty of abusing Facebook in exactly the way I've mentioned. I'm sure I have more than I think. But Instagram, Twitter, Tumblr, and Livejournal are also social media, and I love to use those for sharing pictures and stories of what I love in life.
I'm sure this isn't news. People are always the problem, irrational as they may be. You tell people not to panic: they panic. You tell them they can have it their way: they want it their way in the MOST obnoxious way possible. It's what people do.
You say something on social media for everyone to see: they probably see it. And other people see it. And their other people see it. It's a shame, really- but sometimes a break is necessary, even if you enjoy it. Because one rock can send a ripple through the whole pond, and it can be seen for a while, depending on the size of the rock.
"On Twitter we get excited if someone follows us. In real life we get really scared and run away." ~Unknown via @mozusa
Monday, February 25, 2013
Musty, Dusty and Old: A Trip through Nostalgia Land
Isn't it lucky, really, that a passport isn't required to take a trip down memory lane? And that there's no toll, like in The Phantom Tollbooth? Otherwise we'd all be paying out the nose to take a walk down the aisles of Goodwill, where some of the dishes resemble things my grandmother had in her kitchen cupboard, or on the table masquerading as a candy dish. You know, those cut glass things that have the fun bumps and come in colors like clear (is that really technically a color?), pink and blue? Green, sometimes. I went to Goodwill tonight, and in addition to finding a lovely, sealed copy of Casablanca on VHS (probably worth nothing, but totally awesome), I found Batman on VHS (Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na...awesome!), and SO MUCH STAR TREK on VHS (I didn't buy it, as it was 1.99 a tape and I already have at least one series on DVD). The VHS section was like my childhood threw up in there, and I do not regret a second of my squealing like a little girl.
As I was checking out at the register, the guy in front of me turned to see the box I placed on the counter, containing a VCR (it wasn't really a VCR, but from the same time period...or even prior), and said: "What is that?". Now, I realize that there are countless internet memes showing cassette tapes, #2 pencils, and VHS tapes, all saying 'Like if you remember this', but COME ON. Really. My own niece (thank you, kid) knows what a VCR is. And I'm pretty sure she knows what a cassette tape is. Thankfully so, else I'd have to write her out of the will for not being cool for her age (kidding. In my will all she'd be getting is VHS tapes and DVD's of science fiction shows, so she really isn't missing out).
I know, I know. Everyone gets to that point where they can't believe the things of their youth are so 'retro now', and are flabbergasted when someone younger doesn't know what "Three's Company" is, or "The Electric Company" or "Square One". Years ago I asked someone if they knew who Vanilla Ice was, and they said no. I suppose that the things of ones youth don't nearly seem as out of date until seen through a younger generation's eyes, so it's just so damn difficult to understand why someone might not realize that the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles ARE NOT ALIENS, Michael Bay.
I love nostalgia, though. Love it. I have a piece of fabric printed with the old Ninja Turtles logo from the 90's, I have the DVD set of the first season of JAG, and I have Return to Oz on DVD that I've watched a thousand times. I mean, it's all special because I loved it once and it all got me through some point in my life at one time or another. My DVD set of Star Trek:Voyager got me through my parents divorce, and now every time I watch it I feel like I'm okay for a little while. It's all meaningful in one way or another, and that's what makes it so nice to revisit.
"Every act of rebellion expresses a nostalgia for innocence and an appeal to the essence of being."
-Albert Camus
Sunday, February 24, 2013
All the Pretty Ladies...
So I was watching The Oscars tonight (who wasn't? And side note: anyone read the article on yahoo that talked about removing 'The Blah-Blah Annual' from the Academy Awards this year and slimming it down to simply 'The Oscars'? Yeah.). I was watching, and I won't lie- I primarily watch for the dresses. The colors, Duke! The colors! In my recent decade of life I have become enamored of all things fashion, and it doesn't at all hurt that many of the ladies who wear these dresses are the source of many a fierce girl crush for me.
Lets start with my favorite: Gwyneth Paltrow. Say what you will: I think she's gorgeous. I don't care what you say about her taste, her website, her children's names. I'm talking about how pretty I think she is. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I rather enjoyed her dress she wore to the 2012 Academy Awards (I think). The white one with the cape? I mean, nothing can EVER be as bad as Bjork's swan dress from whenever ago, and there was so much noise about GP's cape that I'd have thought it too had a beak and feathers. Seriously.
I'm going to toss in an observation that has nothing to do with clothes, while I think of it. Mark Ruffalo! WHERE DID YOUR HAIR GO!? He had the most adorably tousled hair in The Avengers. I'd like that back, please.
Ok. Hm. Charlize Theron. I love the woman. Bad memories of Monster (I realize it was accurate, but aaahhh!), but her hair tonight, with that dress? Hi. Marry me, darling. Oy.
Jennifer Lawrence was adorbs, as always. She has that kind of face and sweet young glow that just makes you believe she's still in that stage of acting where it really IS awesome to be recognized still, and not expected. Her dress was sweet, and during the 'boob' song she was so fucking cute when her name came up. It killed me. I'd die for her hair, too- if I wasn't already dead from that pretty, pretty face.
I didn't see many others, as I know myself and how I have to go to bed NOW or I'll stay up until it's over...but I can safely say that there was a lot of pretty. Except Halle Berry's dress...which reminded me of The Night Circus, and made her boobs look really, really pointy.
I look forward to tomorrow and the rash of Oscar red carpet photos on Tumblr. I, of course, will be looking for GP, and possibly Sandra Bullock or Glenn Close.
"It's funny that it all becomes about clothes. It's bizarre. You work your butt off and then you win an award and it's all about your dress. You can't get away from it."
-Reese Witherspoon
Lets start with my favorite: Gwyneth Paltrow. Say what you will: I think she's gorgeous. I don't care what you say about her taste, her website, her children's names. I'm talking about how pretty I think she is. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I rather enjoyed her dress she wore to the 2012 Academy Awards (I think). The white one with the cape? I mean, nothing can EVER be as bad as Bjork's swan dress from whenever ago, and there was so much noise about GP's cape that I'd have thought it too had a beak and feathers. Seriously.
I'm going to toss in an observation that has nothing to do with clothes, while I think of it. Mark Ruffalo! WHERE DID YOUR HAIR GO!? He had the most adorably tousled hair in The Avengers. I'd like that back, please.
Ok. Hm. Charlize Theron. I love the woman. Bad memories of Monster (I realize it was accurate, but aaahhh!), but her hair tonight, with that dress? Hi. Marry me, darling. Oy.
Jennifer Lawrence was adorbs, as always. She has that kind of face and sweet young glow that just makes you believe she's still in that stage of acting where it really IS awesome to be recognized still, and not expected. Her dress was sweet, and during the 'boob' song she was so fucking cute when her name came up. It killed me. I'd die for her hair, too- if I wasn't already dead from that pretty, pretty face.
I didn't see many others, as I know myself and how I have to go to bed NOW or I'll stay up until it's over...but I can safely say that there was a lot of pretty. Except Halle Berry's dress...which reminded me of The Night Circus, and made her boobs look really, really pointy.
I look forward to tomorrow and the rash of Oscar red carpet photos on Tumblr. I, of course, will be looking for GP, and possibly Sandra Bullock or Glenn Close.
"It's funny that it all becomes about clothes. It's bizarre. You work your butt off and then you win an award and it's all about your dress. You can't get away from it."
-Reese Witherspoon
Saturday, February 23, 2013
"Who, What, Where, When, Why?"
(This one's for you, Alli. Now it's stuck. You're welcome).
I've been told, once or twice in my life, that I should write songs. Now, that sort of thing seems a bit difficult to me, as writing a song isn't at all as simple as writing a poem or a short story. You can't simply take a string of words and put them with music, expecting them to knock out an incredibly awesome musical number. Can you? Hm? Well, as I was recently introduced to a lovely tune by the name of "Malcom McGillikitty", I find that my thoughts on songwriting may indeed prove correct when trying for, say, a song to be sung by Kanye West, but completely incorrect when used to write music for children.
Let's give it a shot, shall we? (Pretend there's a tune. If I could write music, you'd get that too).
"I really wish I drank that brown stuff
Mama loves.
Mama loves.
She seems to need that pretty brown stuff,
Mama does.
Mama does.
It smells like what she cleans the floor with,
and looks like my pee.
But I really wish I drank that brown stuff,
It's called Whiskey!"
"People like to tell me
I'm pretty.
People like to tell me
I'm nice.
My daddy said I was made of sugar,
he said I was made of spice,
but teacher taught us the birds and the bees,
and I now I think that daddy lies."
"Kitty, please come back to me,
I want to pull your tail!
I love you, kitty,
play with me!
I'll put you in my pail.
I love you kitty,
LOVE YOU SO,
I want to squeeze you tight!
I love you, kitty,
LOVE YOU, KITTY!
Every single night!"
I'm thinking that if there was a market for it, I could write satirical kids music for adults. However...well, there are books like that, but I really don't see the market. It's more fun to just stumble across things like this on the internet and have a snicker or two. Right?
"You must pass your days in song. Let your whole life be a song."
-Sai Baba
I've been told, once or twice in my life, that I should write songs. Now, that sort of thing seems a bit difficult to me, as writing a song isn't at all as simple as writing a poem or a short story. You can't simply take a string of words and put them with music, expecting them to knock out an incredibly awesome musical number. Can you? Hm? Well, as I was recently introduced to a lovely tune by the name of "Malcom McGillikitty", I find that my thoughts on songwriting may indeed prove correct when trying for, say, a song to be sung by Kanye West, but completely incorrect when used to write music for children.
Let's give it a shot, shall we? (Pretend there's a tune. If I could write music, you'd get that too).
"I really wish I drank that brown stuff
Mama loves.
Mama loves.
She seems to need that pretty brown stuff,
Mama does.
Mama does.
It smells like what she cleans the floor with,
and looks like my pee.
But I really wish I drank that brown stuff,
It's called Whiskey!"
"People like to tell me
I'm pretty.
People like to tell me
I'm nice.
My daddy said I was made of sugar,
he said I was made of spice,
but teacher taught us the birds and the bees,
and I now I think that daddy lies."
"Kitty, please come back to me,
I want to pull your tail!
I love you, kitty,
play with me!
I'll put you in my pail.
I love you kitty,
LOVE YOU SO,
I want to squeeze you tight!
I love you, kitty,
LOVE YOU, KITTY!
Every single night!"
I'm thinking that if there was a market for it, I could write satirical kids music for adults. However...well, there are books like that, but I really don't see the market. It's more fun to just stumble across things like this on the internet and have a snicker or two. Right?
"You must pass your days in song. Let your whole life be a song."
-Sai Baba
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Wakey, Wakey, Eggs and...what?
I've always wondered as to the origins of that saying (how does one spell 'bakey' when using the word bacon? Bac-ey? Wuh?). Wakey-Wakey already makes me want to shove a plastic straw in my eye, so...well, we don't need me walking around with a straw in my eye, so I shall stop thinking about the spelling of bac...ba...whatever.
We begin our tale on a warm summer morning, the musical sound of birds trickling through my open window as the sun poured its energizing rays upon my tousled bed. The day is warm, the air is fresh, and green grass overtakes the lawn with a burst of color that cheers the soul. Sounds nice, doesn't it? Well...it was really this morning, which was overcast and grey, so the opening sentences are really just a bunch of crap. Would have been nice if it was a dream, but I didn't even dream last night, as far as I'm aware, and if you read on I'll tell you exactly why.
So last night was a relatively slow night at work, and when I was finally released from the drudgery of shoemaking (Ha. Thought I was going to give it away, didn't you? I know I'm not fooling anyone who knows me- you all know where I really work,), I went to Walmart with a friend to pick up a few odds and ends. At that point I was drinking a nice flavored milk, and thinking 'Huh. I'm not really tired' (and no, I hadn't been drinking my usual eight hundred cups of coffee). This continued for some time, and upon reaching home I was able to use that surplus of energy to wash every dirty dish, sweep the kitchen AND living room, and put away said dishes after drying.
Somewhere in there I took two Advil PM.
Now, I can just hear you (especially you, Meredith- you know how it goes when I take sleep aids) saying how that probably wasn't a good idea. TWO of them? That's like letting TWO buses hit you and not getting the number on EITHER license plate! Well, a week ago I tried taking one, and the effectiveness level was zilch, so this time I thought two might be in order. What can go wrong, right? Nothing!
Nothing did go wrong, to be fair. I woke up two hours before my shift, and was dressed and ready to go by eight a.m. Because I was drugged, unfortunately, I had arranged for a ride to work at 6:40, and suffice it to say I missed that chance.
Things worked out, as things do, and I was offered an alternate ride to work. So I made it, and everything was absolutely fine. But this did teach me a valuable lesson: if you're me, it's wise to set more than two alarms when under the influence of any sleeping aid. In fact, setting four (two for each pill) is probably wise. Hell, call a concierge service and ask for a wake up call. Set a smoke bomb under your bed with a timer for maximum effect. Maybe even pay a small child (if one is readily available) to run in and douse you with cold water at wake-up time and in five minute intervals for at least twenty minutes following. Not the most pleasant snooze, but if you consider that waking up early isn't the most pleasant thing to experience, this really makes sense.
We begin our tale on a warm summer morning, the musical sound of birds trickling through my open window as the sun poured its energizing rays upon my tousled bed. The day is warm, the air is fresh, and green grass overtakes the lawn with a burst of color that cheers the soul. Sounds nice, doesn't it? Well...it was really this morning, which was overcast and grey, so the opening sentences are really just a bunch of crap. Would have been nice if it was a dream, but I didn't even dream last night, as far as I'm aware, and if you read on I'll tell you exactly why.
So last night was a relatively slow night at work, and when I was finally released from the drudgery of shoemaking (Ha. Thought I was going to give it away, didn't you? I know I'm not fooling anyone who knows me- you all know where I really work,), I went to Walmart with a friend to pick up a few odds and ends. At that point I was drinking a nice flavored milk, and thinking 'Huh. I'm not really tired' (and no, I hadn't been drinking my usual eight hundred cups of coffee). This continued for some time, and upon reaching home I was able to use that surplus of energy to wash every dirty dish, sweep the kitchen AND living room, and put away said dishes after drying.
Somewhere in there I took two Advil PM.
Now, I can just hear you (especially you, Meredith- you know how it goes when I take sleep aids) saying how that probably wasn't a good idea. TWO of them? That's like letting TWO buses hit you and not getting the number on EITHER license plate! Well, a week ago I tried taking one, and the effectiveness level was zilch, so this time I thought two might be in order. What can go wrong, right? Nothing!
Nothing did go wrong, to be fair. I woke up two hours before my shift, and was dressed and ready to go by eight a.m. Because I was drugged, unfortunately, I had arranged for a ride to work at 6:40, and suffice it to say I missed that chance.
Things worked out, as things do, and I was offered an alternate ride to work. So I made it, and everything was absolutely fine. But this did teach me a valuable lesson: if you're me, it's wise to set more than two alarms when under the influence of any sleeping aid. In fact, setting four (two for each pill) is probably wise. Hell, call a concierge service and ask for a wake up call. Set a smoke bomb under your bed with a timer for maximum effect. Maybe even pay a small child (if one is readily available) to run in and douse you with cold water at wake-up time and in five minute intervals for at least twenty minutes following. Not the most pleasant snooze, but if you consider that waking up early isn't the most pleasant thing to experience, this really makes sense.
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