Blah.
I've been in a pissy mood all day today and I'm really not sure why.
Actually, come to think of it, it's probably because there's so many goddamned people on campus again, and they all look like Freshmen. Here's hoping I find a fairly humble abode to reside in after I graduate at this semester's end.
So, on Friday, I drove back home for what was originally supposed to be one or two nights, but ended up being nearly a week. I'm not admitting that I particularly missed my family, but it was nice to see them again. My dad kindly accompanied me to Meineke in Bloomington to replace the outer CV Boots on my front axles, as well as the brake pads. This was an unexpected surprise, as after summer living expenses and other debts had been paid off, I ended with a paltry $350 in the bank that I'm not ready to spend frivolously if I can avoid it.
We also stopped by Best Buy, where I grabbed a $10 of Harvest Moon DS, a deal too good to pass up. While I was in the store, the urge to defecate struck me, and I headed to the bathrooms. There were, of course, only two stalls, and one was occupied, so I entered the open handicap-accessible stall.
Upon closing the door, I noticed that it was outfitted with not one, but three lock implements. One was the sliding kind, one was the cylindrical locking bolt, and the third was the built-into-the-door-turn-knob-that-is-supposed-to-fit-in-a-latch. However, the slider was hanging loosely, the bolt lock didn't even have the necessary cylinder to fit into place, and the turn-lock didn't have the latch built into the frame!
Immediately, an inner voice told me, "That's just asking to get walked in on." And sure enough, not even 30 seconds into my business, I heard the inevitable approaching footsteps, and the door blasted wide open, with a confused guy swinging inward with the door like Kramer, then turning red and swinging right back out the way he came. Having sensed this coming a few seconds before he revealed me to the world, I averted my gaze slightly down and to the right so as only to see him out of my periphery, and upon his entry, gave him a tip of the index finger from my eyebrow, as if to wordlessly say, "Yeeeeep, that's me crappin', there, Chief."
I complained about the lack of working mechanisms to my cashier as I checked out, who simultaneously happened to be female and quite amused by this, as if she realized what had happened. She told me, "I'll tell a manager," but I'm sure she won't. Oh well.
A couple nights ago, Collin dropped by to see if I was around, and I went with him on an impromptu impulse shopping spree for geeky board games in Springfield. We picked up an expansion to "Arkham Horror," a Call of Cthulhu game that I quite enjoy, and "Fury of Dracula," which we ultimately spent two nights in a row playing.
It's kind of like "Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego," except instead of attempting to arrest a country-hopping art thief, she's playing the role of the penultimate nocturnal aristocrat tooling around Europe circa 1898. And you're trying to drive a wooden stake through her heart. Good times.
...
Now I'm bored and don't feel like writing any more tonight. I wish some people would get down here so I have someone to talk to.
Actually, come to think of it, it's probably because there's so many goddamned people on campus again, and they all look like Freshmen. Here's hoping I find a fairly humble abode to reside in after I graduate at this semester's end.
So, on Friday, I drove back home for what was originally supposed to be one or two nights, but ended up being nearly a week. I'm not admitting that I particularly missed my family, but it was nice to see them again. My dad kindly accompanied me to Meineke in Bloomington to replace the outer CV Boots on my front axles, as well as the brake pads. This was an unexpected surprise, as after summer living expenses and other debts had been paid off, I ended with a paltry $350 in the bank that I'm not ready to spend frivolously if I can avoid it.
We also stopped by Best Buy, where I grabbed a $10 of Harvest Moon DS, a deal too good to pass up. While I was in the store, the urge to defecate struck me, and I headed to the bathrooms. There were, of course, only two stalls, and one was occupied, so I entered the open handicap-accessible stall.
Upon closing the door, I noticed that it was outfitted with not one, but three lock implements. One was the sliding kind, one was the cylindrical locking bolt, and the third was the built-into-the-door-turn-knob-that-is-supposed-to-fit-in-a-latch. However, the slider was hanging loosely, the bolt lock didn't even have the necessary cylinder to fit into place, and the turn-lock didn't have the latch built into the frame!
Immediately, an inner voice told me, "That's just asking to get walked in on." And sure enough, not even 30 seconds into my business, I heard the inevitable approaching footsteps, and the door blasted wide open, with a confused guy swinging inward with the door like Kramer, then turning red and swinging right back out the way he came. Having sensed this coming a few seconds before he revealed me to the world, I averted my gaze slightly down and to the right so as only to see him out of my periphery, and upon his entry, gave him a tip of the index finger from my eyebrow, as if to wordlessly say, "Yeeeeep, that's me crappin', there, Chief."
I complained about the lack of working mechanisms to my cashier as I checked out, who simultaneously happened to be female and quite amused by this, as if she realized what had happened. She told me, "I'll tell a manager," but I'm sure she won't. Oh well.
A couple nights ago, Collin dropped by to see if I was around, and I went with him on an impromptu impulse shopping spree for geeky board games in Springfield. We picked up an expansion to "Arkham Horror," a Call of Cthulhu game that I quite enjoy, and "Fury of Dracula," which we ultimately spent two nights in a row playing.
It's kind of like "Where In The World Is Carmen Sandiego," except instead of attempting to arrest a country-hopping art thief, she's playing the role of the penultimate nocturnal aristocrat tooling around Europe circa 1898. And you're trying to drive a wooden stake through her heart. Good times.
...
Now I'm bored and don't feel like writing any more tonight. I wish some people would get down here so I have someone to talk to.