I am obviously addicted to the internet.
Well, quite a bit has happened.
I have survived The Move. It was a long day and a half, and technically it has still not ended, but I can safely say that Ursula and I are now living together in a comfortable one bedroom in the Summerfield complex. I love the new apartment so goddamn much. Not everything is unpacked yet, but it is slowly coming together.
As a move-in present, Ursula's brother-in-law purchased her a 27" flat screen television, and it can only be described as sexy. Simply looking at it arouses me. Along with that, we discovered that the old, evicted tenets have not canceled or transfered their cable service yet, and so there is basic cable for all.
However, we will not have internet for a while. Because of this I have discovered that I am, in fact, a fucking addict. I'm sitting in the old apartment (the living room specifically) which holds only a couch, a computer, and an internet connection. I could be in my wonderful new apartment, but instead, I sit amongst the remains of a previous residence, sucking the proverbial teet that is my dark master: The Internet. I will suck your dick for broadband.
Speaking of addiction, our new apartment has a policy which scares me, for the sole reason that I'm not sure I can abide by it. Our apartment, dun Dun DUN: IS NON-SMOKING. That's correct: no smoking inside Apartment 7. Can it be done? How long before our hero grabs a cancer stick without moving from the couch? Will he succumb? Will he survive? Stay tuned!
So, our apartment is very nice, and I'm sure you will see it very soon. Moving on.
The System of a Down concert. If you've read Mike's journal, do I really need to add anything? They rocked our fucking faces off. End of story.
College. Jesus. I start classes at UCF tomorrow. Latin I and History of the English Language, which were the only classes available by the time I registered. I will be majoring in English, moving along the Creative Writing track. The campus horrifies me, as the size breaks my mind. There's... there's just so much college. You can rent laptops. They have a Wendy's and a Sparros. They have a fucking bar. It amazes me. It astounds me. I am frightened, confused, and most of all, excited.
I've forgotten something, which goes without saying. I'm sure I'll remember it by the time I get back to Apartment 7. In any case, I'm going to miss Apartment 2. It has been the locale of so many shenanigans. It has been my home for a year, and I can only hope that the new apartment will be as cool as this one has been.
I think it will be.
Signing out from the warzone that was our apartment. Later bitches.
I have survived The Move. It was a long day and a half, and technically it has still not ended, but I can safely say that Ursula and I are now living together in a comfortable one bedroom in the Summerfield complex. I love the new apartment so goddamn much. Not everything is unpacked yet, but it is slowly coming together.
As a move-in present, Ursula's brother-in-law purchased her a 27" flat screen television, and it can only be described as sexy. Simply looking at it arouses me. Along with that, we discovered that the old, evicted tenets have not canceled or transfered their cable service yet, and so there is basic cable for all.
However, we will not have internet for a while. Because of this I have discovered that I am, in fact, a fucking addict. I'm sitting in the old apartment (the living room specifically) which holds only a couch, a computer, and an internet connection. I could be in my wonderful new apartment, but instead, I sit amongst the remains of a previous residence, sucking the proverbial teet that is my dark master: The Internet. I will suck your dick for broadband.
Speaking of addiction, our new apartment has a policy which scares me, for the sole reason that I'm not sure I can abide by it. Our apartment, dun Dun DUN: IS NON-SMOKING. That's correct: no smoking inside Apartment 7. Can it be done? How long before our hero grabs a cancer stick without moving from the couch? Will he succumb? Will he survive? Stay tuned!
So, our apartment is very nice, and I'm sure you will see it very soon. Moving on.
The System of a Down concert. If you've read Mike's journal, do I really need to add anything? They rocked our fucking faces off. End of story.
College. Jesus. I start classes at UCF tomorrow. Latin I and History of the English Language, which were the only classes available by the time I registered. I will be majoring in English, moving along the Creative Writing track. The campus horrifies me, as the size breaks my mind. There's... there's just so much college. You can rent laptops. They have a Wendy's and a Sparros. They have a fucking bar. It amazes me. It astounds me. I am frightened, confused, and most of all, excited.
I've forgotten something, which goes without saying. I'm sure I'll remember it by the time I get back to Apartment 7. In any case, I'm going to miss Apartment 2. It has been the locale of so many shenanigans. It has been my home for a year, and I can only hope that the new apartment will be as cool as this one has been.
I think it will be.
Signing out from the warzone that was our apartment. Later bitches.