omg update guyz
I suppose a journal is only a journal if you update it occasionally.
I moved into my apartment on Friday. My two roommates have been living here for a few years now and are looking to buy a house at the end of August. They are both in their mid-twenties, drive nice cars, and go on lots of trips, both for business and pleasure. On a whim, one of them, Ian, decided that yes, he would like to visit his friend in New Zealand for six weeks. A few days ago, he told the other guy, Matt, that for New Years this year, they should go to Iceland. I can’t wait until I start making an actual salary.
For the last two years at school, I walked everywhere I needed to go. I only took a cab if a group of people were going somewhere too far to walk, and that rarely happened. Needless to say, I never went very far. I did live a few floors above a bar last year, after all. This year, however, I’ll have my bike, and I’m already riding it to and from places for several hours each day if the weather is nice. By chance I found myself at Point Pleasant park yesterday. It was the first time I’ve ever been there, and it’s a damn shame that I never got to see it before Juan fucked it up.
I guess I have this running theme of me pretending to be a developing alcoholic, so let’s continue with that.
When I was fifteen, I got to hang out with a bunch of drunks and drug addicts at work. I was introduced to a lot of new things and got more than a glimpse of a very depressing but somewhat exciting lifestyle. My situation now is pretty similar, except that I already know the lifestyle; Ian and Matt will just see to it that it becomes more personal. I kind of feel like Taj from Van Wilder, except less socially awkward and less brown.
Ian and Matt took me out Friday night. It was a mixture of beer, fun, laughter, tequila, insults, shenanigans, mystery drinks, free drinks, more drinks, and vomit. Kind of expensive by my standards, but that’s just the way she goes. Before going out, I made a deal with Matt that, for any night that I do not have a legitimate reason for not going out with him, excluding Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday night, I have to put five bucks in a pile. At the end of the summer, we’ll use the money to do something fun. The think about Matt, though, is that he drinks a lot. Most nights, it will actually be cheaper for me to just not go anywhere.
Matt and Ian also like to break things. The furniture here was left by the previous tenant, as well as his fish for some reason. Matt got pretty excited Friday night and started hitting things with an aluminum bat. This inevitably led to him destroying a couch, which woke up our landlady who lives above us. She appeared at the door, clearly pissed off. Matt starts cleaning up and apologizing as Ian and I laugh at the situation. The landlady, Lynette, comes in and says, “Well, since I’m up, you might as well get me a beer.” Yeah, she’s pretty awesome. If we want to have a party, we just have to let her know beforehand and keep a couple drinks cold for her. I know Ian and Matt told me, and so did Lynette.
Anyways. We went to the Pogue Fedo, where we almost got in a fight. I was excited because we all knew that I wouldn’t actually fight, but rather watch everything go down and kick someone when they were down and wouldn’t be able to fight back. Then we went to the Alehouse, which I forget the specifics of. At one point, Matt bought a round of shots for a few people, myself included. I asked him what it was, to which he said, “You don’t fucking ask that question!” I still don’t know what it was because he doesn’t remember doing or saying that. It might have been Jagermeister or black rum.
The guys were fucking ecstatic when I told them that I threw up at the end of the night. New guy initiation complete.
I moved into my apartment on Friday. My two roommates have been living here for a few years now and are looking to buy a house at the end of August. They are both in their mid-twenties, drive nice cars, and go on lots of trips, both for business and pleasure. On a whim, one of them, Ian, decided that yes, he would like to visit his friend in New Zealand for six weeks. A few days ago, he told the other guy, Matt, that for New Years this year, they should go to Iceland. I can’t wait until I start making an actual salary.
For the last two years at school, I walked everywhere I needed to go. I only took a cab if a group of people were going somewhere too far to walk, and that rarely happened. Needless to say, I never went very far. I did live a few floors above a bar last year, after all. This year, however, I’ll have my bike, and I’m already riding it to and from places for several hours each day if the weather is nice. By chance I found myself at Point Pleasant park yesterday. It was the first time I’ve ever been there, and it’s a damn shame that I never got to see it before Juan fucked it up.
I guess I have this running theme of me pretending to be a developing alcoholic, so let’s continue with that.
When I was fifteen, I got to hang out with a bunch of drunks and drug addicts at work. I was introduced to a lot of new things and got more than a glimpse of a very depressing but somewhat exciting lifestyle. My situation now is pretty similar, except that I already know the lifestyle; Ian and Matt will just see to it that it becomes more personal. I kind of feel like Taj from Van Wilder, except less socially awkward and less brown.
Ian and Matt took me out Friday night. It was a mixture of beer, fun, laughter, tequila, insults, shenanigans, mystery drinks, free drinks, more drinks, and vomit. Kind of expensive by my standards, but that’s just the way she goes. Before going out, I made a deal with Matt that, for any night that I do not have a legitimate reason for not going out with him, excluding Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday night, I have to put five bucks in a pile. At the end of the summer, we’ll use the money to do something fun. The think about Matt, though, is that he drinks a lot. Most nights, it will actually be cheaper for me to just not go anywhere.
Matt and Ian also like to break things. The furniture here was left by the previous tenant, as well as his fish for some reason. Matt got pretty excited Friday night and started hitting things with an aluminum bat. This inevitably led to him destroying a couch, which woke up our landlady who lives above us. She appeared at the door, clearly pissed off. Matt starts cleaning up and apologizing as Ian and I laugh at the situation. The landlady, Lynette, comes in and says, “Well, since I’m up, you might as well get me a beer.” Yeah, she’s pretty awesome. If we want to have a party, we just have to let her know beforehand and keep a couple drinks cold for her. I know Ian and Matt told me, and so did Lynette.
Anyways. We went to the Pogue Fedo, where we almost got in a fight. I was excited because we all knew that I wouldn’t actually fight, but rather watch everything go down and kick someone when they were down and wouldn’t be able to fight back. Then we went to the Alehouse, which I forget the specifics of. At one point, Matt bought a round of shots for a few people, myself included. I asked him what it was, to which he said, “You don’t fucking ask that question!” I still don’t know what it was because he doesn’t remember doing or saying that. It might have been Jagermeister or black rum.
The guys were fucking ecstatic when I told them that I threw up at the end of the night. New guy initiation complete.