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 1am. Phillip and I are in the car, zipping around downtown Minneapolis. I ramble: “…tomorrow I will go out less, crack down, stay home and focus. From now on. Seriously.”
Phillip lets me ramble, but doesn’t believe it.
This was another cluttered week of work, exercise, dating, and reconnecting with long-neglected friends. Pictures!
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:
This is on the stadium village side of campus:
See, in law school Saturdays are off the chain. Behold:
How do I contain myself? Someone call Lindsay…
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 junkies living underneath me were evicted yesterday. The management company secretary said that booting the junkies out was a nightmare, and the building owner called and to apologize for ever renting to them.
The junkies made this semester rough. They screamed at all hours of the night, blocked and trashed the hallways, broke windows, and even fired a gun.
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.
It is spring in Minneapolis…
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!”
A bloated school day ended with a trip to Memory Lanes.
I love the Lake of the Isles neighborhoods but I need to stop taking pictures here. The residents probably think I’m casing their homes:
A rehab program rents the apartment underneath mine. This means that junkies camp out in the hallways and loom by the front door of the building until they are let in.
This also means that there is a lot of random screaming in the middle of the night.
Last night’s drunken screamfest was particularly vicious:
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:
This is St. Mary’s Greek Orthodox Church. It is on a hill that overlooks Lake Calhoun, so the gold dome is rather dramatic: 
I finally made my way up the hill and to the building, and was so underwhelmed by how bland the rest of the building is.
These are from the Uptown/Wedge area, near Caffetto.
