The Return

After RCN decided that I wouldn't get cable or an internet connection this month, it decided to give me one tomorrow, which showed up today. Which is nice, because now I can have no time to spend on the internet now that school's underway. C'est la thing. In celebration of finally being able to connect here, I'm going to post the thing I wrote the day I moved in. I completely forget its contents, and hope that won't matter too much. I'd say that you should pretend the date below is about a week ago, but since I've only posted once in the interim, it shouldn't make much of a difference.

1:02 AM Central Time
August 28, 2005
Written In CHICAGO

I’ve moved. I’m actually very pleased with my apartment, as it’s much nicer and bigger than I remembered it. Then again, when I was here last, the kitchen appliances were in the living room, so it probably had the effect of making it seem not so good. Other than that, the new paint, carpet and microwave/stove thing make me enormously happy.

Now, on to matters.

I, whenever I get around to it, shall endeavor to find out what the hell is going on in Elkhart, Indiana. From the view from I-90 on the way through, not much. Mostly flat earth. Some trees. Lots of sprinkler systems. Crops. But every once in a while, in the middle of one of these vast monuments to modern agriculture, the scenic view is interrupted by matters inexplicable. Z.B., a giant electronic marquee that proclaimed proudly that it belonged to some manner of Hall of Fame. I could not see what KIND of Hall of Fame, as I’d just woken up (the previous night, I slept 2 hours before setting off) and I didn’t have my glasses on. I’ll have to figure that out, if for some reason I ever drive on that road again. Another of these unexplained presences in the fields was a very random and somewhat elaborate playground. But whatever about that.

I realize the labor atrocities that Wal-Mart is responsible for in the modern world, and the treatment of their employees is…less than desired. To say the least. But once again, I found myself acquiescing to the corporate behemoth’s call to buy buy buy. Mostly because WalMart seems to be the only place in the damn world you can get a futon that you can actually take with you that day so that you can have a bed. Target, for some reason, doesn’t stock them, nor do Sears or Kohl’s, and at Value City I was told by a slick business suited long hair pomaded back man named Jesus that I could buy a futon, but that I would either have to pick it up Wednesday (impossible) or pay $80 for delivery to my apartment.

Upshot: I have a futon, and have already scuffed the perfect walls with it.

I’m calling tomorrow about cable and an internet connection, though the first of those two is infinitely more dispensable. I’m probably actually just going to be calling the cable company about getting some internet up in this piece.

Until then, I shall retire to Moneyball and that damned Star Wars Game.

Update: I've since finished Moneyball, tried for about a minute to read "Men At Work" before deciding I had much, much better things to do, and have finished the damned Star Wars Game.

Also, I checked out that Hall of Fame thing in Elkhart. I thought I'd misread the sign. I hadn't. It's the Recreational Vehicle/Motor Home Hall of Fame.


What the hell.