She’s from finals, but I forgot to post the picture here:
She’s from finals, but I forgot to post the picture here:
It’s late. Matt, Brett, Hair, Swan, and I are outside of Jetset bar. Brent and Hair are smoking. Hair looks bored. Matt wants to leave.
I leave the group to go to the restroom. When I come back outside I see Alig out of the corner of my eye.
Alig is your run-of-the-mill1 skeezy club rat, sort of like the club kids in Party Monster, except this is Minneapolis so half the time Alig is in track shoes and ill fitting shorts.
Reputation-wise, Alig is the equivalent of WMD or Pig Pen from the Peanuts: the tragic hot mess of the city who will soil anyone he talks to like broken septic tank. Behold:
Oh everything is absolutely fabulous and I will write shortly.
I have the same problem that Truman Capote and Oscar Wilde had: it is hard to both live life (while being present) and write about the life you’re living.
But I am here to make a quick addition to my list of the types guys that I date. To review, so far we have:
I am not sure if either of us knows what is going on.
Morbid obesity came around this morning.
Morbid Obesity: “Knock, knock!”
Me: “Who is it?”
Morbid Obesity: “Morbid obesity is a-knocking.”
Me: “I AM NOT HOME!”
Morbid Obesity: “Oh the hell you aren’t! I can hear them jelly rolls jiggling behind the curtains! Precious!”
Me: “Fine. But you are out of my life. Love don’t live here no more!”
Morbid Obesity: “That’s not what your bellah told me.”
Me: “I am working on it!”
Morbid Obesity: “Oh the hell you are! Between the record-breaking heat and the rain, you haven’t done cardio in FOUR DAYS!”
Me: “Today is the day!”
Morbid Obesity: “…for muffin top!”
Me: “GET OFF MY PROPERTY! I AM CALLING THE COPS!”
So to spite morbid obesity, I skated 12 miles around the lakes after work today. Thelakes are fabulous . There were the usual picnickers, swimmers, cute babies, studs, and concerts…
Exams are over. I’m a 3L, and thrilled.
The past few days were full of long hours at the library, late nights at the office, post-finals celebrations, dog walks, rollerblading, dancing, cackling, and even a date.
There is an upside to getting stuck in traffic in South Minneapolis:
I walk into Dunn Brothers before work this morning and there is a tall barista who I have never seen before. The hulking Barista looks surprised:
Hulk: “Wow! You smell great! What are you wearing?”
Me: “Oh thanks, it’s Abercrombie.”
Hulk: “Is it Fierce?”
Me: “Why yes, it is fierce.”
Hulk: “I like it! I just wish they would bring back the original Abercrombie scent, you know, the one from when we were both in high school!”
Me: “Uh, when were you in high school?”
Hulk: “Mid to late 90’s…”
Me: “I’m not that old.”
Class ended (I’ll get to that later) and my first final is tomorrow.
Here are some pictures to prove that this finals season isn’t all about junkies and gloom:
The ersatz police dog:
I heard banging for the past few hours and noticed that the apartment’s lights were on when I went outside with Gertrude, my Rottweiler.
I called the cops and requested to remain anonymous. The cops were already in the building when I got back inside.
I am upstairs. The Rottweiler hears the cops knock on the downstairs apartment as I unlock my door, so the Rottweiler DARTS DOWN THE STAIRS, RUNS PAST THE POLICE OFFICERS, AND RUNS INTO THE JUNKIES’ APARTMENT.
I am horrified.
So I run downstairs, Officer McDreamy is rolling his eyes like “What the fuck, where is this random Rottweiler coming from?!” and my Rottweiler has the pleasure of participating in a police raid.
I am then on the phone with my landlord when the officers shoo the dog back in the hallway. The Rottweiler is terrified because she doesn’t understand why everyone is screaming.
At least I was out of the hallway by the time they started bringing the former-neighbors out of the apartment.
The police officer said that the former-tenants are going to be brought to detox and held there for a few days. There are only a few problems:
I think I’m screwed.
The cafeteria cashiers at work are awesome.
Donna: “Only two bananas?”
Me: “Yep. I’m being healthy.”
I’m at Dunn Brothers on Lake Street. I search the wireless networks and then start laughing uncontrollably:
While inline skating around the lakes yesterday I happened upon an epic fail:
Apparently, the truck didn’t fit under the bridge. It wasn’t even close. And, as a sign of how law school ruins everything, my first thought was: “Oh that sucks because they so totally won’t be able to get unemployment benefits since they are getting fired for cause.”
And yes, that thought was so totally in Reese’s voice ala Legally Blonde.
I am so glad that one of my coworkers is at Dunn Brothers tonight. Now I am not the only witness to the batshit-crazy going on the corner.
There is a bloated, 15-person group in the corner which looks like a book club. Tonight’s theme is “outsiders and specialness” and the conversation contains such gems as:
Middle Aged Lady: “Can I tell you guys something? When I was young I thought I was special. I thought was really special! I thought I was so special that I thought I would have a virgin birth! And it has taken me 55 years to realize I AM NOT SPECIAL. I AM NOT SPECIAL AT ALL!”
It is Saturday night and Judd and I are on our way to the see “Kick Ass.” We stop at a light and try to avoid eye contact with the sign-holding beggar on the side of the road.
Beggar: “Yo brother from a different mother!”
Me: “Dad surely got around.”
Beggar: “Surely. Can you spare any money?”
Me: “Recession. I have no cash!”
Professor W: “What’s so wrong with swearing? The most wonderful word in the English language is that four letter word that begins with “f” and ends with “k.”
Professor A: “Someone asked me to record today’s class because they said they were sick. I couldn’t tell if they were sick-sick or just sick of class.”
Professor A: “Like everything else in the internal revenue code, this is misleading and needlessly complex…”
A bloated school day ended with a trip to Memory Lanes.
Judd and I went to Davanni’s Pizzeria in Uptown Minneapolis last night.
We walk into the pizzeria and there is a busty, middle-aged woman standing in front of the ordering counter near the door.
Busty looks upset and a little crazy, so of course she comes up and talks to us:
I skated around a lakes Cedar, Harriet, and Calhoun after class today. It was my first time around Cedar lake, which is north west of the other lakes.
Cedar lake is only partially surrounded by bike trails, and I found myself in a large park which made me feel like I was in the middle of a forest, despite being only a mile or two away from downtown:
There is also a portion of the trail along an old railroad right-of-way which has view of the city:
After my faux-forest-adventure, I returned to my apartment and ran into the cleaning ladies for the building who were, well, pissed off. Their note explains why:
