The Caribou Coffee is rather loud today. Some rather rowdy, middle-aged women are sitting at a table across from me talking about who knows what - children, politics, “the change?” I have no idea nor do I care. Inside voices, ladies…
The past few days have been mostly been taken up by hanging out with the people in my building. On Wednesday, Darrel and I decided to go walking around the downtown since we hadn’t actually taken notice to any of that. The downtown isn’t that large but more has the feel of a Norman Rockwell painting - very quaint and picturesque. We casually strolled around the six or so blocks that made up the area. looking into shops and taking notice to things such as the library and the post office. After about a half hour, we completed our tour but hadn’t burned up as much time as we had planned so I suggested we go to Wal-Mart and I would pick up some booze.
When we got back home, Anita and Amanda we’re there to greet us. We stood outside in the parking lot conversing, smoking, and comparing the bass in our cars. I didn’t participate in the latter. I took the beer inside and before long everyone else was there looking though my things and commenting on this and that. The girls asked to see my guitars and before long, I was hashing through such party favorites as Semi-Charmed Life and Good Riddance - which incidentally became my ringer on Anita’s phone.
After having a few brews and talking some more, we went out for a cigarette and Anita started bragging about her Guitar Hero skills. Darrel had it readily hooked up so we went back to his place. We gave her a guitar and she said “so we’re playing on medium right?” Needless to say, Darrel and I ,who seasoned veterans, swept the competition. Darrel treated us all to some stir-fry he made from scratch and we all broke for the night.
On Thursday, Anita made good on her promise for taking Darrel and me out on the town for a tour despite her dealing with her ex for a bulk of the day. She drove us through most of town, pointing things out here and there. Darrel was excited to see the Starbucks. We drove by where she said it was - which it wasn’t. Apparently the mass closings of Starbucks around the nation effected the Red Wing area. Sigh…
Anita rounded off the evening to taking us to Treasure Island Casino, also known as “T.I.” to the locals, which was about ten minutes out of town where eighteen year olds, also known as “underage people,” could gamble away their hard earned money like the rest of us. Anita and Darrel played the slots for a few minutes while I watched and smoked a cigarette. We walked around the floor eyeing all the tables where Darrel decided to try his luck at some Blackjack. Having never been to a casino before, the man behind the table said such classics as “I can’t take the money from your hand, you need to put it on the table” and “if you’re going to stay on your hand, please make a motion for the camera.” None of us lost much money that night but I felt I was the winner of the evening having only purchased a beer. We came home, said our goodbyes, and settled in for the evening in our respective apartments.
Friday wasn’t much of anything, Anita and Amanda took Darrel and I for a ride to Pizza Hut for some food. We went back to the apartment and spent the rest of the evening playing hacky sack and going through old yearbooks. Today, however, was a little more productive. With nice weather today (clear and in the lower 70s), Darrel and I worked on our coffee tables. I finally sprayed mine while Darrel sanded down his table that was worn and battered from sitting in a garage for who knows how long in preparation for a new finish.
Well Darrel and I need to get going. We need to shop around for a lamp for Darrel’s apartment and perhaps get something to eat. I have some small children roaming around in here and I’d rather not deal with that either ….
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Please won't you be my neighbor?
In the past few days, I’ve learned a bit about the people I live with. Well, not so much “live with” as “live around.” On Sunday night, Darrel and I were hanging out in his apartment when we heard what sounded either like bad music or a drunken dispute. We decided it was time for a smoke and went out to have a look. There, standing dangerously close to my car, were a group of people and two guys yelling at each other at the top of their lungs. They were not the most snappiest dressers but more typical of what I may have seen back home at that hour. One man in question who was going on about “if I didn’t respect my dad…” and “I’ll hit you in the face we a baseball bat” was wearing a nice little ensemble of shorts that don’t fit, a backwards baseball hat, and a wife beater. The latter of which I found ironic with talk of a bat and all.
Anyway, they had been fighting for about maybe three minutes before two police cars rolled up and broke up what ever domestic problems they were trying to hammer, or I should say “bat,” out. The night was uneventful past that. I did find out from a nice woman who lives down the hall from me that the man speaking of baseball equipment was the boyfriend of a young girl who lives across the hall from me. She apparently is known for bringing in the types of fellows, one whom was thought to have stolen some things out of some apartments in the building. Joy!
The woman who informed me of all this had, the day before, asked me to take a look at her 1976 Bicentennial Edition Fender acoustic since it hadn’t been playing very well. I took a look at it and gave her some appropriate advice. She had also filled me in that after twenty or so years, she was going back to school this semester for accounting so she can properly take care of her children. This sort of ideal is something I greatly respect.
The last group of people that I ran into happened on Monday night. Again, Darrel and I were standing outside for lack of anything else to do when a girl rolled up in the lot and walked to the door. I asked her what she had been doing that night and she replied “you don’t wanna know.”
Typical of myself I said “Fair enough” and went on talking to Darrel. She came around and told us that she had been fighting with her boyfriend, with whom she works with.
Anita, twenty and living with a few friends of hers upstairs, told us about all the troubles she had gone through with him and we, in exchange, asked her about the town and things that the locals would know. She also gave us a “tour” of her car of all the scratches and dents that she had collected after a small joke I made about “women drivers.” She was a nice girl to talk to that night despite her troubled evening and before long her two friends Amanda and Thor (yes, that’s right) showed up. They asked us up to their apartment and before long they were showing off scrap books and things that they had placed on their refrigerator. They also offered to take us on a tour of the town on Thursday. From the looks of the car, it should be an exciting evening. We took our leave that night when a small shaving cream fight erupted in the bathroom and Darrel and I didn‘t feel like doing the wash. All in all, it’s nice to know a few more people in the building.
Speaking of my apartment, it’s almost put together, I bought a glass top coffee table from the Salvation Army for ten dollars. It will need to be cleaned and painted but it should make a nice addition to the place once it’s complete. I also got my print of The Old Guitarist by Pablo Picasso hung over my TV with the help of Darrel and a 9 PM run to Wal-Mart for some picture framing wire. More on all that later.
Well, I better get moving. I still need to check my bank balance, pick up some books from the school, and resurrect a coffee table. So much to do and so little time. Wait… strike that. Reverse it…
Anyway, they had been fighting for about maybe three minutes before two police cars rolled up and broke up what ever domestic problems they were trying to hammer, or I should say “bat,” out. The night was uneventful past that. I did find out from a nice woman who lives down the hall from me that the man speaking of baseball equipment was the boyfriend of a young girl who lives across the hall from me. She apparently is known for bringing in the types of fellows, one whom was thought to have stolen some things out of some apartments in the building. Joy!
The woman who informed me of all this had, the day before, asked me to take a look at her 1976 Bicentennial Edition Fender acoustic since it hadn’t been playing very well. I took a look at it and gave her some appropriate advice. She had also filled me in that after twenty or so years, she was going back to school this semester for accounting so she can properly take care of her children. This sort of ideal is something I greatly respect.
The last group of people that I ran into happened on Monday night. Again, Darrel and I were standing outside for lack of anything else to do when a girl rolled up in the lot and walked to the door. I asked her what she had been doing that night and she replied “you don’t wanna know.”
Typical of myself I said “Fair enough” and went on talking to Darrel. She came around and told us that she had been fighting with her boyfriend, with whom she works with.
Anita, twenty and living with a few friends of hers upstairs, told us about all the troubles she had gone through with him and we, in exchange, asked her about the town and things that the locals would know. She also gave us a “tour” of her car of all the scratches and dents that she had collected after a small joke I made about “women drivers.” She was a nice girl to talk to that night despite her troubled evening and before long her two friends Amanda and Thor (yes, that’s right) showed up. They asked us up to their apartment and before long they were showing off scrap books and things that they had placed on their refrigerator. They also offered to take us on a tour of the town on Thursday. From the looks of the car, it should be an exciting evening. We took our leave that night when a small shaving cream fight erupted in the bathroom and Darrel and I didn‘t feel like doing the wash. All in all, it’s nice to know a few more people in the building.
Speaking of my apartment, it’s almost put together, I bought a glass top coffee table from the Salvation Army for ten dollars. It will need to be cleaned and painted but it should make a nice addition to the place once it’s complete. I also got my print of The Old Guitarist by Pablo Picasso hung over my TV with the help of Darrel and a 9 PM run to Wal-Mart for some picture framing wire. More on all that later.
Well, I better get moving. I still need to check my bank balance, pick up some books from the school, and resurrect a coffee table. So much to do and so little time. Wait… strike that. Reverse it…
Monday, August 18, 2008
It's 8 o'clock. Do you know where your home is?
Well, no drink for me today. Had this been a Starbucks and not a Caribou Coffee, it wouldn’t be such a problem. However, I don’t have the time, money, or stomach to try all their different drinks of nonsense. I just want a Vanilla Bean!! Seems like a reasonable request. A guy who lives in my apartment said that there was an honest to God Starbucks somewhere in these parts but I think this is the stuff of legend. Anywho…
I’m growing tired of having to make twice-a-day trips to Wal-Mart and Target to get stuff I need for my place. I live slightly out of town so it’s not like I can just pop in and get something. This alone has grown very heavy on my soul. For such a small town, I have to do too much damn driving.
Speaking of driving, I got pulled over yesterday. Hooray! My first day of living here alone and I get pulled over by an unmarked black cop car. They are very tricky, it seems. My crime? Speeding going 42 in a 30. This, however, need some explanation…
On the way into and out of town, the city has these gradual speed restrictions. From my apartment into town, you start on a highway going 55, then it changes to 45 for 1/5 of a mile until ending at 30. I missed the two VERY small speed signs and just kept going. I explained to the officer that that was fair enough but I had literally moved here two days ago and am just getting used to the town. He asked if I had moved up here for school and I said “yes.” He went back to my car, saw my clean driving record and out of state plates, saw pity on me, and let me off with a warning. He was actually very nice about the whole ordeal. He wished me a nice day and drove off.
As I sat there collecting myself I suddenly came to the realization that this isn’t my town. I don’t know the ends and outs and I’m just getting adjusted to the place. It made me quite homesick. I longed for Saint Joseph, the land of milk and honey! Where I can dance around in sunny, leafy glades all day without a care in the world except which tree I was going to sleep under and which bushes and shrubs would provide my meals. It seems that paradise is, indeed, lost.
Do have a bright note! Last night while I was taking a small smoke break, I spoke to a guy who had moved in the same day as I who was from Kansas named Darrel. He is a nice chap with quite a few things in common of myself. We exchanged numbers that night and today he accompanied me as I ran my daily errands around town. It’s nice to know that I have a friend in the apartment. So things are looking up.
Well the nice ladies behind the counter are eyeing for not buying anything so I must retreat out to my car for a smoke. It’s quite pleasant this evening anyhow. Now I just wonder if I have anything to do in town before I go home. Hmmm….
I’m growing tired of having to make twice-a-day trips to Wal-Mart and Target to get stuff I need for my place. I live slightly out of town so it’s not like I can just pop in and get something. This alone has grown very heavy on my soul. For such a small town, I have to do too much damn driving.
Speaking of driving, I got pulled over yesterday. Hooray! My first day of living here alone and I get pulled over by an unmarked black cop car. They are very tricky, it seems. My crime? Speeding going 42 in a 30. This, however, need some explanation…
On the way into and out of town, the city has these gradual speed restrictions. From my apartment into town, you start on a highway going 55, then it changes to 45 for 1/5 of a mile until ending at 30. I missed the two VERY small speed signs and just kept going. I explained to the officer that that was fair enough but I had literally moved here two days ago and am just getting used to the town. He asked if I had moved up here for school and I said “yes.” He went back to my car, saw my clean driving record and out of state plates, saw pity on me, and let me off with a warning. He was actually very nice about the whole ordeal. He wished me a nice day and drove off.
As I sat there collecting myself I suddenly came to the realization that this isn’t my town. I don’t know the ends and outs and I’m just getting adjusted to the place. It made me quite homesick. I longed for Saint Joseph, the land of milk and honey! Where I can dance around in sunny, leafy glades all day without a care in the world except which tree I was going to sleep under and which bushes and shrubs would provide my meals. It seems that paradise is, indeed, lost.
Do have a bright note! Last night while I was taking a small smoke break, I spoke to a guy who had moved in the same day as I who was from Kansas named Darrel. He is a nice chap with quite a few things in common of myself. We exchanged numbers that night and today he accompanied me as I ran my daily errands around town. It’s nice to know that I have a friend in the apartment. So things are looking up.
Well the nice ladies behind the counter are eyeing for not buying anything so I must retreat out to my car for a smoke. It’s quite pleasant this evening anyhow. Now I just wonder if I have anything to do in town before I go home. Hmmm….
Sunday, August 17, 2008
And now for something completly different...
I’m sitting in the Caribou Coffee in main street sipping on a Chi tea, cruising the interweb and checking my sites. Thank the lord that my dad gave me his laptop so I can do this sort of thing until I get the net in my apartment. As for my apartment, all of the big things are put together and in there place. As for everything else, not so much but I have all week to work on them. My dad was up here yesterday and the day before helping me get moved in and at least have the big stuff done. I have all week to unpack and such so I’ll post some pictures when I’m done. I don’t want anyone to see it as is. I hooked up my tv last night and to my surprise, I got a few channels. So my father and I watched the Olympics until he went to bed. We watched Michael Phelps win his newest medal. My dad made suggested that perhaps he was Satan and that’s why he couldn’t be beat. It’s a defiant possibility in my opinion. He left this morning so now I’m all alone. I think I’ll be alright. I have a plan for the this week and next week I’ll start up school. Well the battery in my slightly used laptop is running low so I’m off to run errands. This seems kinda dry and a bad idea… the tea I mean.
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