Picture of the day
“For fun? I study and go to class,” I said, realizing how stupid it sounded before I had finished saying it. But it’s true – for the past few weeks I’ve consistently (especially during the week) gone to bed at 10pm, and skipped to the gym at 6:30 in the morning.
After the gym I go to the dining hall, then the library, then class, then back to the library. I leave the library and come back to my residential college, do some RA-work (redoing the hall, fire drill inspections, meetings, programs, desk shifts, etc.) and then go to bed.
Sounds boring but few things are as interesting as working towards grad school and doing your job well.
Oh, my guys took yearbook pictures.
The yearbook people were late and unprofessional and made my guys wait so I was bitchy and mean.
My floor is better than yours.
My guys are cooler than yours.
Oh and I cleaned my room…and lost my cane card at laser quest. I like being boring.
Highlights (I don’t feel like typing it all out)
– Denny’s with Katrina and Danny…and the rest of UM (including Katrina’s high roommate)
– Laying on I-95 in the middle of the night trying to get someone’s coolant tank from under my car.
I was zipping home from Miami Beach when I almost swerved into the barrier wall because half of someone’s car was in the middle of the highway. Part of it got stuck under my car. One of the guys from the accident was being an idiot and running across the highway constantly to drag car parts away…ugh…I called 911 for him then drove back to campus. The people in front of me on US-1 were obviously drunk – they hit the curve 4 times.
– So there was a fight at Taco Bell and one of the guys was looking for his earring… but the guys from the fight came back and Kali and I decided to follow them. We sped after them all through Little Havana and they then trapped us (two of the cars blocked the road and the third stopped). They all got out and banged on our car windows and Kali almost ran one of the guys down. … we drove off but they found us then we lost them. After that we went to South Beach.
– Pookie at Taco Bell.
– Steve and I being asked if we had “crack or heroin” by some drunk girls on Lincoln Road. “Hm, I don’t know, I don’t have any crack, but I have heroin.”Eariler that night at dinner Steve decided to move tables when we had already ordered drinks… and then ordered drinks with the new waiter… that led to some confusion… I kept zoning out when the waiter came and never heard a word he said… I think he thought I was disabled… I liked the massive birds at the restaurant. Could have done without the Loews drama though.
– Metrorail adventure with Kali. We took it to the Liberty City flea market, saw scary clowns, bootleg Chinese knockoffs, weave, weave, weave, oh-hell-nah foopa, a lady and three kids sleeping in the back of the shop, and guys with red-weave coloring… THEN we went to the Palmetto station, (past the serial killer’s stables) …then back to downtown Miami. We ate at Bayside’s Chili’s terrorized the mall for a while, got ice cream… then got on the metro mover and did a photoshoot (singing drunk Mexicans!) before heading back.
– The fat girl in the Mouse costume made us cry.
The metro rail driver hit on me… oh no.
…college gets better every week.
I stood with my friends and eyeballed the hipsters. Creepy past-middle-aged Peta people milled about and mingled with dreadlocked art students. This guy who calls himself “TV” was wearing cardboard bunny ears. Emaciated post-punk-somethingcore whatevers with painfully tight jeans, dirty chucks, skin-tight T’s, and hideous piercings mixed with the spot bleached punk-prostitute electocrash girls. Kristen had the cleavage. Kyle had the camera. We were good to go.
We ended up at this indie record store in Wynwood after a long detour through Brickell (we took the pastor’s parking spot while we ran to the atm) and through Overtown/Midtown. As we were walking towards the record store (after we finally found it and parked in a nearby shady alley) a girl walking towards us pointed and said, “You’re going to get so much shit for that shirt!”
Kristen and I both looked at each other, “Who was she talking about?” was Kristen’s cleavage too large? What was wrong with my shirt?
When we got into the record store, we understood. It was a vegan event thrown by Peta.
My shirt said “OFFICIAL TURKEY TASTER” and had a turkey drum on it.
So, um. Yeah.
CJ was there (of course) with Pete. Frank was there too. We were there to support Luz, Katrina’s band. We waded through the pretentious herd and then went outside. The muddy backlot of the record store was set up as a sort of mini vegan fairground. Veggie burgers, wall painting, small vendors… I bought a bowl made out of a melted record. Oh, and apparently I’m on the Peta email list… we’ll see how that one goes.
Luz began playing in the center of the mud fair about 30 minutes after we showed up. Katrina turned on the power vocals and impressed all the pierced, tattooed, and ultra-naturals. They had a goofy drummer who kept smiling mischievously as if she just farted and got away with it. It was endearing. Danny and Patrick played some violin-like string instruments which weren’t violins – an interesting touch.
While Luz played I looked at the crowd and had a sense that this was one of those nights that people refer to when they talk about the college experience. This sense of guilt and shame also crept in – a night like this was a novelty I didn’t have time for. Underground parties and local bands will be forever associated with high school. That time of exploration should come at 15, 16, maybe even 17. But wasn’t I too old for this? Standing there I looked at the middle aged – the thirty somethings, the forty somethings… had no one told them? I didn’t want to be the 25 year old attending events populated by people barely past puberty, dressed as clowns and enveloped in their middle school rebellions.
Harvard Law remember? Flex remember? LSAT remember?
I stood in the dark mud fair with friends and stared at the “indie vendors” and their backdrop of dilapidated houses (across the street). Katrina belted out lyrics as I accepted that this night belonged to a time that had already passed.
Reality hit this week. I’ve realized that there are a lot of opportunities and choices closed to me because of my age. Every day there’s one less opportunity for me, something passed, something missed out on. I think part of the problem of growing older is this pervasive awareness… the awareness of so many opportunities and options, and the knowledge of when they pass.
There was an interpretative dance afterwards…
Afterwards Kristen, Kyle, and I drove through Allahpattah, saw some car racing and got caught by a bridge. 20 minutes later we were zipping through traffic on the Dolphin and avoiding a lake on the Palmetto Ramp.
Into Kendall we went. After figuring out which theater to go to we parked at one of Kendall’s massive strip malls-masquerading-as a real mall deals and saw a fight behind Pier 1. Apparently there’s a club in front of Pier 1. Oh, and a Chuck E Cheese across the street. Now that’s class.
Of course we were too late for the movie so it was time for Wal-Mart and an intense discussion about FlipFlops and purses. We also saw the creepy guy who used to work at the bowling alley arcade. Woo… There was a trip to Wal-Mart earlier in the week as well. It was with Kali and Eric I believe. A lot of car dancing and a nice pitstop in Liberty City.
…then Steak and Shake. Steak and Shake made me want to cry. So of course the creepy dude from Wal-Mart who is like 45, with medium length blond hair, a red face, and the creepiest child molesting-clothes on sits RIGHT across from us. We couldn’t stop laughing. Well, that’s not true, we did. But then this semi-homeless guy with a sore throat came and the girl in the booth next to us decided to play peekaboo and the laughter was back on.
Oh Steak and Shake.
So we finally get to the movie theater and the movie turns out to be a documentary about a joke. I did not need to see the father from Full House tell a vile joke about incest, vomit, and poo. That ruined my worldview.
The next day, the week ended where it began – at Oz. (that’s the official name now by the way)
It was packed. The parking lot was as packed as the club and you could hardly move inside. I was so drenched when I came back that my jeans were dripping with sweat. Gross, I know. It was the best night at that club ever. No leprechauns this week but all my FIU and MDC people were there …also some UM people I know but don’t really talk to. Heck, even Loochkartt made an appearance but then disappeared. OH! Even the exchange student was there!
I went with Kristen, John and Kyle… Kristen was mortified… well to be fair she did get a rave review (seriously now) about the cleavage. I think Kyle was a bit freaked (because he’s closeted) and John seemed to have fun. They left early and I stayed until 2:30 (curfew’s at three).
Simply insane, best night ever, I think my ears were about to fall off afterwards. And I think I dozed off during the show. Whatever. One of the best club nights ever.
I’m glad Oz was so amazing since I’m not going out again until November 2nd. This week has simply been too heavy between the late night movies, adventures (like with Kali driving to six different McDonalds at 1 am to get milkshakes and ending up in little Havana, … or during the day to get the hamsters and that THING (with the white wig) walking down Je Leune… oh oh hell nah), class and the project I feel like I’m only available to the guys on my floor in passing. On the 2nd I’m going to go to the Morgue and I’m dragging Rafa there. But nothing else until then.
I got off schedule this week (the hurricane being a very poor excuse) and things have gotten really deplorable. I’m also ‘talking’ to possibly maybe dating someone? Uh… we’ll see how that goes.
And booooooooooks. Ugh. I have a crapload of reading to do and my room is a mess and and and… more next week (I think post day is officially moved to Monday).
This week,
– Canned Salmon isn’t a great idea.
– Uni Miami At night (they redid Hecht’s lobby, the new architecture school looks like a mosque)
– Me, Jose R. at “Me and You and Everyone We Know” which made up for last week’s terrible movies.
– Screaming (“debating”) about OPEC for six hours on the boardwalk. (and I was right, by the way)
– A few long midnights
– This was a vacation week, time to regroup. “This novel isn’t writing itself!”
I’ve spent lots of time in the country near Pembroke Pines in the middle of the night. A soda machine at cemetery ate my dollar at 2am. Snaps.
Other nighttime adventures include creepy houses in suburbia (you know who you are) and warehouse districts (with dog chases, seriously) Long, Long, midnight walks and discussions at FIU, Gables, and Little Havana.
Oh, and bad movies.
Oh, and impromptu parties on the expressway because it was shut down for a hour due to a rather nasty accident.