September 14, 2003 - 2:13 p.m.
So I'm one month into this great human experiment known as "living in an apartment" and, not to jinx it or anything, I LOVE IT.
Here's a short rundown of what I can do in an apartment that I couldn't do in the dorms:
- Cook
- Eat at a table
- Escape to some privacy
- Watch TV at will
- Play music at will
- Not have to listen to my neighbor's music booming through the walls (because my neighbor is a music professor and understands how precious the human ear is)
- Own food
- Freeze food
- Walk from room to room
- Take off my shoes and not have to stare at them all day (sounds weird, I know)
- Have company over whenever and for however long I choose
- Not get carded for coming home after midnight
- Decorate the walls
- Have a fire in the fire place
- Sit on the front porch
- Sit on the back porch
- Spread out
- Lie on a couch
- Wash dishes
- NO MORE FLOOR MEETINGS!
- park outside my door, not a mile away
- and much, much more.
There are trees outside my back door, big evergreens. The neighbors are quiet. One of them, down the row a bit, is an older woman named Marge, and she has a dog, Phoebe.
Immediately to the left of our place lives Dr. Wesley J. Broadnax, associate director of bands at MSU, and the guy who adjudicated my block audition for the Spartan Marching Band. I haven't seen him yet, but when I do, he'll probably say, "How ya doin?" in a really sympathetic voice, because my audition (in August 2000) was really bad, and he felt awful that I couldn't perform better, I think. Every time I saw him on campus after that he looked at me like my dog had just died, which is a trick, since I don't have a dog. But you know what I mean.
So life is good... I'll have to write again the first time we actually USE the fireplace.
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