Fireworks put the zest in summer.
Fireworks put the zest in summer.
Last week I was at the Starbucks in downtown South Miami, reading on the second floor balcony, when I heard a helicopter. I briefly looked up at the chopper which hovered behind the mall across the street. Hm. Okay.
I looked up again when I heard the second chopper.
I put my book down when I heard the third chopper circling the mall.
All of us on the Starbucks balcony had a collective “wtf” moment and then got on our phones.
I called the dorm front desk then another RA. No one knew anything.
When I got back to the dorms later that evening I searched the local news websites.
Nothing.
I finally called the Coral Gables police, asked to be transferred to the records department, and then asked the elderly lady who came on the line to look up what the choppers were used for by US-1 and Red Road.
Yes it was that serious. 3 choppers warrant a news report.
Turns out the freaking bank across the street was robbed. “It looks like a stick the tell up and run job” the lady told me.
I was annoyed that 1) there are still old-wild-west style bank robberies in the middle of the day, and 2) that no one bothered to cover it.
After a little more searching I realized why: Bank robberies are freaking common in Miami. Four banks were held up by The Big Boy Bandit this year, there was a bizarre “I have a bomb” robbery in Miami Beach, and a rash of robberies up in Hallandale Beach.
What the hey? I’m curious why the tellers aren’t behind bullet proof glass, or, even better, why they aren’t armed.
You find the most interesting things in the neighborhood.
Oh college… good thing it’s over.
Beach, Beach, Beach. This is what I’m supposed to do in Miami right?
Note to 30-year-old future self: the skin cancer is all your fault.
My favorite pair of flip flops broke today. Crap.
In other news, the Keys were pretty…
Dave and I watched most of The Fall last night in South Beach. We couldn’t finish because the theater’s fire alarm went off about 20 minutes before the end of the movie.
After a collective “what the fuck?” moment, we all evacuated with the rest of the theaters. The fire exits lead to the parking garage, and a claustrophobic urine-scented stairwell.
The nice manager let us back into the theater because it was (of course) a false alarm.
Go back to the theater, he said, the nice firemen are going to silence the alarm and your nice movies will resume shortly.
And we apologize, he said.
Such a nice man.
After about ten minutes Dave and I were back in our nice theater. The other six people in the theater had returned too:
Hipster Badu also talked to herself.
The problem was that the nice manager and the nice firemen were unable to silence the fire alarm.
Actually that’s not true – they were able to silence it, but they were unable to keep it silenced.
So we sat there staring at the blank screen lit occasionally by obnoxious blinking lights to the soundtrack of “ATTENTION, ATTENTION, A FIRE HAS BEEN REPORTED, PLEASE PROCEED TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF THE THEATER.”
The blinking lights were like a big epilepsy test. Seriously, it was worse than a Pokemon game. And that’s not so nice.
After twenty minutes we decided that if we were going to be in a loud, dark room with strobe lights that we might as well go to a club.
The rest of the theater (besides Hipster Badu) decided to peace out at the same time.
The nice manager apologized and told us to come back with our ticket stubs for a free movie.
So David and I went to laundry bar.
Laundry bar was a hot mess. David made friends with this creepy woman named Sunflower from Costa Rica.
Sunflower from Costa Rica read palms and told us that she suspected she was an alien.
Yes.
She did.
Sunflower from Costa Rica’s proof of her otherworldliness was a weird dent on the top of her head. Which she made us feel.
Yeah. She did.
Her very intoxicated lady-friend kept coming over to dance with us and sketched Dave and I out with inappropriate dance movies approximately every 10 minutes.
Hilarity.
The summer playlist,
One thing I will not miss about the University of Miami:
Impromptu visits by a guy in a duck costume who claims to be a Ibis. At least he can’t talk.
Here are some pictures of the old dorm room…
This last one is my desk. I did a wallpaper collage and then sealed it with clear-packing tape…so it’s actually water proof.
The irony of this is that when I move to Minneapolis I don’t plan on decorating my room at all. Like nothing. Spartan.
Well, there was a bowling alley. Last week (or the week before?) Matt and I dropped about $70 at a boutique bowling alley – which, for college students, is unacceptable.
$42 for one hour. $5 (x2) for cover (yes, the bowling alley charged a cover), $10 for soda. $4.50 (x2) for shoes.
Memorial Day Weekend in Miami: Rain. And not that nice London rain either, but that explosive “the world is pouring down” Brazilian-rainforest type of rain.
If Miami had mountains there’d be mudslides. Für sure.
Went to Little Havana and got some food from Mom’s.
“When you need a refill just call me a day in advance.” – Mom’s the business. I love going back to the neighborhood. People’s cars chink and clank just like mine. There are fruit carts, Botanicas, grandpas drinking on stoops, and chickens in the road. It’s a nice break from the sterile streets that surround school.
Visited a few old haunts in South Beach and South Dade…There’s a definitely a few Edie Sedgwick complexes going around. (And by-the-bye Community College does not mean you’re Indie.)
South Beach and Downtown are beginning to resemble something from lastnightsparty.com. I’m going to leave it alone for a while and stay in the Gables.
Quick outline of things (to be fleshed-out later)
Tomorrow
And then, more work.
UMN Law is my first choice. I was accepted and I’m attending. This is old news.
The first deposit is already in. This is happening. I want this.
I’m excited. I really really am.
But declining all these other schools, especially those that gave me full rides, feels like burning my security blanket.
Looks like a duck…
…but Quacks like UMiami.
I graduated today. Well, sort of.
My last final-exam was today. I’m not going to commencement, so, for undergrad. That’s it.
I’m sure Angela Lansbury will forgive me for skipping out on her speech.
“No, Taco Bell will be gross by the time I get back to campus. Chipotle is too expensive…Let’s do Qdoba.”
Ten minutes later.
“Fuck Qdoba. There’s no parking in South Miami. Everyone is taking the meters up for the clubhouse and these restaurants. Ugh. Chipotle then.”
Five minutes later
“Where am I? Taco Bell. I’ll be DAMNED if I’ll wait in that 30 person line at Chipotle. It’s not that serious.”
Email from my boss…
Hecht = My dorm
SA = Security assistants
Hey everyone,
I just wanted to make you aware that there may be an increased security presence in Hecht for the next couple of weeks.
Due to some extreme behavior by residents that is creating a potentially dangerous environment for other students and one not conducive to sleep and study SA’s will be spending some extra time in the elevator lobbies on certain floors.
If you see them just say hello! If you feel that your floor may also need this increased presence let me know.
We have limited staff to work with but will do what we can. If you have any questions or concerns let me know.
– Bosslady
What the hell, Miami?
I’m facing some hardcore resistance writing my last history paper. It needs to be all of three pages. I’ve done all the research. I’ve read over 300 pages for this thing. I’m so just so incredibly bored with the subject that I can’t stop whining about not writing and just write it because I don’t want to write it.
And well, I need to. The FTS (F-this-S) hormones have arrived. They need to go away for the 45-or-so-minutes this thing will take to write.
I even entertained the idea of not writing the paper for a while, but when I mentioned this to Miss Pao she threw a fit. Seriously. Stomping and all.
She might stab me if I don’t turn it in.
Today Matt and I went to the mangrove swamp.
The swamp. I ran face-first into a web with a huge-huge spider up in there yonder.
We were stalked by the pelican with the greedy eyes.
I don’t trap hermit crabs in random Heineken bottles…but someone does.
Miami Friday: Class, work, then the water.
I interrupted the pelican convention at the beach today. There were about six of them fishing off the peer.
I kept stepping on sea urchins too.
The beach is a wildlife reservation. “Wildlife” is an over-statement. The possums are so domesticated on the island that people are hand-feeding them.
This week eletronics failed me: I lost my phone, broke my mp3 player, ran into a card-eating ATM, and sent my laptop to Gatewayland for repair.
I also lived in the library for the better part of the week: 6 papers and one group project. Yes. Indeed.
The website, and twitter have new designs. I kept it simple since the the last design was a bit gaudy.