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Back In Business — Well, Sort Of.

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I GOT TWELVE HOURS OF SLEEP LAST NIGHT.

It was the most mind-altering, sweetly beautiful shut-eye that I’ve ever experienced while laying on several dozen planks with nary a mattress. I feel GOOD.
The fridge was scarce of milk, so I settled for a bowl of sugar-free oatmeal. I hear that’s a good meal to eat before you go searching for a job, and that’s just what I did.
Search — did I ever search! I searched, alllll day, everywhere. I searched for jobs in a box, I searched for jobs with a fox, I searched for jobs here, and there, and everywhere.
Alas, I think I found a few. And tomorrow I have an interview — a real, live interview for a real job! (Why this is so hard to believe, I’m uncertain. Being out of the business for so long will do this to you.)
Also among today’s tasks was memorizing my new address — quite the feat when your former residencies have been no more than 10 characters long.
Right now, however, all I want to do is sleep on my sweet bed without a mattress. For twelve hours.
So. Righteous.

Movin’ On Up, Everybody We’re MOVING.

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I’m back, y’all.

This time, writing to you from a different zip code. Not 58701, or 58702. Not even 58703.
I am here in Moorhead. Yes, back in the fast lane! I will be spending the remainder of my summer here, fresh in the land of 56560 — Moorhead style. 
Today’s adventures included unpacking, more unpacking, and for good measure, the assembling of two IKEA beds. It turns out that I still haven’t lost my touch with a hammer (I have my treehouse days to thank for that).
The first order of business, however, was not to unpack nor assemble beds. The first order of business was to fill my stomach with delicious pizza sustenance in the form of Pizza Patrol — CONVENIENTLY LOCATED no more than 10 feet from my doorstep. BONUS.
After 20 minutes of half-pineapple, half-pepperoni delight, I was ready to take on — nothing. Because there is literally nothing to do around here.
Which brings me to my next point. Tomorrow’s tasks include GETTING A JOB or two.
And I have a feeling —nay, I KNOW that this summer will not be like all the rest.

Noontime Chat at the Castle

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Today’s lunchtime chit-chat consisted of much jargon about war, gas prices, and petroleum — things which I (naively) know nearly nothing about, and honestly, out of fear, try to avoid. The last time we had these conversations, I had a nightmare about an atomic bomb and a lot of people speaking a language only I couldn’t understand. You can see now why I like to talk about sunshine, rainbows, and chocolate-covered cherries instead of Saudi and fuel. A tad unsophisticated, yes, but I like to have sweet dreams.
When you eat lunch with Otis, there’s never a dull moment. And that’s a promise.
muchlove.

Some Things Never Change

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REMEMBER BACK IN THE DAY when I stated “oversleeping on the most important days of my life” as a tidbit about myself in my ‘About Me’ section? Maybe not. In any case, I really wasn’t kidding. I’ve overslept on practically every historical date in the history of my being, and today was no exception.

You can add another one to the list. 
Alright, so perhaps today wasn’t exactly the most important day of my life, but it certainly seemed like it. I had duties to tend to, an occupation to grace my presence with, and people relying on me to eat their chocolate and stroke their egos. In other words, a lot of responsibility rides on my shoulders. And it wasn’t a minute after 12:34 PM when my phone clamored at my bedside, signaling that I, indeed, was late. Blast that alarm, the worthless piece of schnay* didn’t go off! 
(I pause for a moment, contemplating whether or not turning in at 5 AM this morning was a wise idea…)
So I was late for work, for the unteenth time in history. I wish I had some sort of sweet excuse, like “Sorry dudes, I was just out saving a dole of turtles from a burning pet store. What’d I miss?” or “My luncheon with Bono went longer than expected — I’ll do better next time.” Instead, what pardon do I expend upon my fellow co-workers but, “Guess what? I overslept.” Right when I thought I couldn’t get any more lame.
Today’s wonderful news!!
a) Some sort of a spectacular, stellar vintage bicycle has appeared outside of my home mysteriously, and I think I may claim it as my own. Slight rust and the tires could use a little air, but a sweet ride nonetheless. The purchasing of a basket and bell is in the works. F|M’ers, keep your eyes peeled!
ii) My room is still in severe disarray! HOORAY!
3) Guess who got a new staple gun, complete with 2000 staples? (Am I the only one that gets excited about these things, no?)
and finally 
IV) 


Fig A: Concatenation of a Roo drinking Starbucks

Friendly Otis bought Starbucks today. He was kind enough to order me up a Grande when all I really needed was a Tall. Grandes are a treat, especially when a Tall costs the same amount as a gallon of gas these days. Needless to say, the progression of my hyperactivity can be seen in Fig A. You know what they say at O&J: “The bigger the Starbucks drink, the greater the productivity.” Right on, dudes.
Well, that’s all for now. With any luck, an update of tomorrow’s affairs.
*A new vocab word that subs nicely for ‘shit’. I use it now in place of ‘shit’, so I don’t have to curse and use ‘shit’. By explaining this to you, I have been counterproductive in my ways. Shit.
muchlove—
jc
PS: Why is it that I am always the star of my blog? Really? Why must it be all about me taking photographs, standing in my room, or sucking down Starbucks drinks? Maybe I should take more pictures of sunsets and litter (the subjects of all award-winning photographs). 

The scuttlebutt (or lack thereof)

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As my entries become less and less frequent, I am beginning to question myself. Really, how lazy have I become? Am I lame? Someone slap me, quick!
Certainly my days have been filled with something; that is, the never-ending consumption of chocolate cookies and B&J’s Phish Food ice cream. Top that off with a healthy dose of sleeping in (I’m talking about the physical motion of waking up late, not the exceptional track by The Postal Service — though both rank high in my book), and you’ve got my life. Pretty sweet.
For now, I am basking in the luxuries of my supermattress*(basically the equivalent of sleeping on a bed of fresh Jet-Puffed marshmallows, or a cloud), the joy of my mother making me the culinary extravaganza that is macaroni and cheese with hot dogs, and the comfort of knowing that I can do my laundry for free whenever I so please — though I don’t often take advantage of this. 
(My sister is sitting in Ohio right now, cringing. Short story: During her most recent visit, she actually expressed that she would rather wear her dirty clothes than my clean garments. This is not saying much about my hygiene, however, I can tell you that she is the only person other than my dad to express this — and I’m not certain that my father retains all of his “smell buds”, or what have you. End rant.)
In just a few short days I will, for the first time in my life, be living in an apartment. An apartment! Can you believe that. It’s like, I’m all grown up or something. Like I am being initiated into that elite group of the stereotypical “poor college students” (have you had enough of this one yet?) that have “dead sweet apartments”, where they store their secondhand disease-harboring couches, cases of Keystone Light**, various tchotchkes, and invariably, the quintessential posters purchased during the Sam Goody closeout sale and/or late night Wal•Mart runs (sober or not, here they come!). I am imagining this is what my apartment will be like***.
I totally miss living in the dorms! All the time!***

On the flip side, I just ordered a crazy little bed frame from IKEA that should be pretty interesting. I would have bought the whole damn store — if only! I can assure you that I will be sleeping on three times the amount of mattress pictured in the image.
In other excitement (!) I snatched a pretty stellar couch off the curb the other day (WILD, I know) and plan on reupholstering it soonly. It will have a new home in my apartment this fall, along with the many other treasures I picked up during a thrifting escapade yesterday.
Also, today I made an appearance as a special guest employee back at my old stomping grounds, the O&J FunCenter, where I briefly dabbled in the world of awesomeness once more. I can assure you, there is no other establishment that offers such perks as unbounded listens of Wilco, Band of Horses, and the Beatles, or encourages chocolate consumption.
Last but not least, upon my return to Fargo | Moorhead I will be promptly hopping on the job wagon and applying at every establishment deemed awesome by my standards. I cannot even begin to express the excitement of going back to work. I miss that sweet paycheck so badly! I need money now that I have an apartment and sweet head of hair to support. Kids these days.
 
Muchlove to all, and happy trails in the land of blog!
jc
*Slight exaggeration.
**Almost as classy as Natty Ice. 
***Sarcasm.

Save the excuses!

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My writing has been lacking. It seems as though the only things I have time to do these days are spend money and sleep in. Hmmm…
I rode 26 miles on my bicycle today. Over, around, and about; just taking everything in. I can remember at one point thinking of how much I was enjoying it all, then wondering why I don’t do it more often. I really ought to seek out my happy more, and once the findings are upon me, implement them into my lifestyle.
Here are bits of this week.




I love you all.
jc

Toodle-oo!

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I HAVE BEEN CLEANING for what feels like 18 hours straight. I am running on empty, yet still going. I don’t know how I do it, I really don’t. I can’t even grasp the concept of what ‘dirty’ is anymore; I just don’t care.

It’s the big day, the day I detach myself (physically, for mentally I was gone in about December) from this place of temporary residence. There’s something about being in one place for so long that makes me feel like everything I am is shrinking. Thoughts become two-dimensional, you begin settling for things you once trivialized, potential is merely a nine-letter word; I’ve reached this place. Not surprisingly, I feel depleted.
My shelves smell like oranges and the air, like clean linen. I’ve Febrezed the bajayzus out of this place (excuse my language, but this seems to be the only term to do my cleaning work justice). My mind is elsewhere, I’d rather be elsewhere. There is a list of goodbyes in my head, I’ve been rehearsing them the entire night, right down to the hug. It’s becoming a nearly remote practice, and I hate that I’ve lost that feeling.
And I’m not sure how I’m going to fit everything in the car, but Satan himself could not keep me from this escape. I’ve got too many clothes, excessive amounts of shoes, and an abundance of knick-knacks and useless trinkets that I somehow have accumulated. It’s hard for me not to find sentimental value in things, or to attach feelings to them.
So, this is the last night in history that I will sit at this desk, in this chair, in this room — this Godforsaken room that has, undisputedly, taken a piece of my mind.
I hate to end this rant on a bitter note. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fair share of invaluable moments this past semesters. I stayed up late, I snuck out (because I can), I broke rules, consumed Oreos, grew, and watched others grow. But the fine line between feeling like I am in a community and a prison has disintegrated, and I am more than alright with getting off this train.
And at the moment, I couldn’t be more thankful.

…one more time

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Good

as of late
things have been.
It’s raining. My room’s a mess — at least what’s left of it. Clothes and shoes scattered everywhere, traces of indecision as to what to wear, and where to wear it. 
I have too much stuff.
There’s a  half-eaten nutty bar sitting on the shelf across the room. I’m contemplating getting up to retrieve it, but realize it’s not worth the effort. It’s been sitting in my hot, sticky room all day and the chocolate is undoubtedly adhered to the wrapper. 
I said some goodbyes today.
Tomorrow brings the last day of the semester, a relief of sorts. Then it’s home for several weeks to seek opportunity of earning some change, followed by my return to f.m. — with any luck, more than I left with, monetarily speaking. 
I feel poor. 
It comes to my attention that I have broken two mirrors in the past week. Basically, I am doomed and the next 14 years of my life are looking pretty shady. Dang.
This has been a day in the life — sorry so ridiculous.
—jc