Once again, it's been quite a long time since I had done this thing. It really isn't new news though. My life encountered yet another saga over the past couple weeks. I have mentioned it to almost everyone I know, so I am quite tired of talking about it. In short though:
I was thrown out of the Minus The Bear show in town before the concert even began. I had markers in my possession, which had been banned from the venue since the last time I was there. The bar became cash only, I was very low on funds, I hadn't eaten in several hours, and I needed to exit in order to take out my last twenty dollars. Upon my return, I forgot to stash my markers in my shoes as I had the first time. The men at the door demanded that I either take them back to my car (I walked) or to throw them away.
The culmination of frustrating events led me to fury. For one second of my life, I lost it. I swung my bag against the wall, giving no prior thought to its contents. I stormed back to the stage to my friend "Lucy", aggravated beyond reason. Second later I was apprehended by a member of security. Supposedly I had put a HOLE in their wall, and I was "outta here". I was forcefully ejected from the venue. The hole was actually a slight, white blemish in the brightly-painted blue wall.
My life seemed to have gotten quite good up until that point. I was happy (and I am still happy) with my co-op job, the weather was improving, and stress was virtually devoid. I felt like I hit a low when I discovered that I busted my digital camera open, rendering it useless. My iPod also exhibited a gash in the top of its casing, and the screen had a large crack. Both were gifts from my mother too, so I felt horrible. Long story short though is that all is now okay. Thank you warranties.
In order for me to completely detoxify my psyche from the whole experience, I felt the need to drive to Bloomington, Indiana to see the same bands on the same tour, two days later. Not only did I do that, but I had an amazing time. Blue Moons were overpriced, so I only had one. While I was driving back to Cincinnati, my oil light on the dash kept flickering as I went down hills or when I braked. Not a single gas station was in service, so I sped such that I could gain refuge quickly. Well, my speedometer been non-functional for months, so I had no idea that I was going 80 miles per hour in a 45 mph zone. The cop pulled me over in the middle of nowhere, proceeded to give me a breathilizer. He wanted to ensure that I wouldn't be driving impaired. "Hey, give it a shot--you won't find anything," I replied. Not only was I not phased by the incident but I was tickled. No qualms.
The next morning, I was a half-mile away from work in Hamilton when the car battery light illuminated. "Why is my battery light on--" The next thing you know, my Toyota was stalled in the high-speed lane of the highway. Luckily I was able to start it up to get to work. When it was time to leave for the day, my stomach felt hollow as I walked to my car. What else, I asked myself. I got about a half-mile down the road when my steering wheel began to lock up, and I veered into a collision service parking lot. Irony.
Despite the horrible sounds that my engine was making, I managed to start the car again. What was I going to do in a tiny gravel lot in the middle of a city without public transportation? I was prepared to drive off the road at any minute. A few hundred feet later, I turned my car into an auto service parking lot. A couple days later, I got $175 for transferring the title to the shop for parts, for the car that finally met its day.
So I'm without an automobile, and I don't intend to purchase another. My eyes are on a 7-speed, German-made Biria bicycle. The job is still treating me well. I would consider myself to be happy. Things to work on include: trying to get over my stress fracture situation that limited my running satiation; planning a trip to Columbus to test ride my future bicycle; finding a short-term job for summer quarter; registering for classes; figuring out when I can go to Norway to see my grandmother.
That was *not* in a nutshell. There's always more. And there is.