appropriate to sing yet?

What is it about making it through a seemingly long performance that makes us inclined to sing (or wait for someone else to sing)?  Is it the joy involved?  Is it relief finally being realized?  Or is it something more?  Obviously, we're invigorated by the jolting lyrics of The Final Countdown where we relish the act of anticipatory (and almost cult-like) chanting when we see that the end is in sight . . . and there is definitely a release of inhibition when can finally sit down to pour ourselves a glass of wine . . . but what is it about singing that paints the finality of something?

I digress.  I'm nearly done (da-da-daaa-daaaaaah!  da-da-da-da-daaaaah!) with my last final of this semester, and let me say it here first:  it's about goddamn time.  Although I liberally advocate the concept of thinking, I must point out that I think I've abused my brain in this circumstance.  Unwilling to take in any more information, my brain has begun to kick things out of the mental apartment.  It's horrible.

Something to look at though.  Here is a snapshot of a blog for one of my classes this fall, and I thought it was absolutely indicative of what you might find happening with blog-class matchings.  For a class of about 35 people, the instructions were as follows:  "Write 5 original entries and post 10 comments on your colleagues entries by the end of the semester for full blog participation points."  Today being only 12 days into December, I found these numbers not in the least bit perplexing.  Setting aside the fact that most people in the class are not familiar with using blogs in their lives, I think this serves as a reminder of just how timidly we approach deadlines.  Especially on seemingly insignificant topics, such as media law (ooops, I blew my veil RIGHT off, there).  "When are they due?   December  11th at 2pm?  Okay.  Got it."  

Fortunately for everyone in the class, they [presumably] got everything in on time.  And luckily for all of us, we're done for a little bit.  However, unfortunately for me, my fascination with quirky things like this kept me coming back for more -- I would check every hour or so just to see the number of posts exponentially rise.  Good for my curiosity.  Bad for my writing and cramming.  

So, as I finish up my last final later this afternoon and pour myself a nice glass (bottle?) of wine to celebrate The End, I shouldn't be surprised if I find myself turning the volume up on my speakers.  I may not be a fat lady, but I sure as hell can drunkly sing any song I want.  Gimme the mic.

Cheers!