Well, it’s been another month between now and my last post. I would like to say that I’m shocked, but in reality, I know I’m not. I have’t had much to write about, and very little to say, even though around me it seems so much has happened.
I moved recently. I know for some that might not be such a monumental occasion, but for me it was. I had been in that building complex for so long. It seemed like one of the larger portions of my life. A neck and neck race between my days in colonial east, and my years in undergrad.
I moved there in 2006. My Sister and her boyfriend at the time were living in a small apartment with an empty room. I had recently moved back from Florida which I remember saying at one point I would stay in forever. A guy by the name of Adam Vaughan bet me a case of beer I would not. He was right, I was definitely wrong. I still owe him that beer.
None the less my time in Florida didn’t last. Between the New Year’s home alone, the Birthday at the bar by myself, the constant driving, the $700 rent payment, or the just being so far from home, I knew when I got to Georgia, that Florida wasn’t home. Thanks to a cut in budget I was allowed to move home and collect unemployment. Unless I win the powerball tonight, that might have been my luckiest moment.
When I moved home, I began living with my parents again. That’s the adult version of being sent to the principal’s office, or being given a time out. As George Costanza once said. There’s nothing that says I’m failing like moving back in with your parents. So, rather than stay in Fairfield and explore the amazing nightlife scene there, I would often go down to Carterville and stay with my buddy.
One night, in a drunken whiskey induced fit of rage, transpired through the jack assery of an individual, I let my temper get the best of me. Rather than kindly walking away when he continued to drunkenly lean on me at the bar after being asked not to, I did what any male jack ass with no sense would do. I stood up started shouting like an asshole, and preceded to throw his fat ass into the tables behind me and excused myself out the back door. I felt I was doing the bouncers a favor. Subsequently he busted his head open and marched himself up to the police station to file charges.
Months later, I was all wired out on way too much of a pre-workout supplement, and was driving through the small town of Fairfield waiting for it to “kick in.” Anyone that’s ever taken a pre-workout supplement knows what I’m talking about. I however wasn’t wearing my seatbelt and drove right by a cop. He pulled out and pulled me over. The next thing I knew I was handcuffed and having the trooper call my father to inform him of my predicament.
As if by some dumbass god surprise, I was informed that I was up for 2 felonies, Nothing says “Welcome to McDonald’s, may I take your order?” like a felony record. I quickly scrambled to find suitable representation, to the tune of $3000. So that brought my dumbass total to 4000, and not even close to done. Because of my constant court appearances, I decided to go back to school. However, I had no where to live, and no idea what to go back for.
As I said prior, my sister and her bf had a nice little quaint apartment in a complex called colonial east. It was small, but away from all the madness that is Carbondale. I moved in and after being informed falsely that I wouldn’t be able to go back for my Bachelor’s in PE, I decided to apply to graduate school. A half court shot to say the least, but hey, no chance of it going in if you don’t shoot.
By some miracle I was approved in less than 8 hours. A very strenuous selection process. While at first I was undeclared because of my stellar GPA in undergrad, I eventually graduated with high marks and a Master’s in Kinesiology.
The next question was what to do. Where do I go? Where do I live? What job do I get. Well turns out I would move a building over and start the 5 years at 4A.
3 Roommates, a few bad relationship decisions, a lot of booze with friends, a few dance parties and a lot of rent money later, and I am officially out. I will probably never forget Colonial east, and the journey that it took me down in my life. I will never forget how excited I was about the free cable and no towing, and more than anything, I’ll never forget the memories I made there, that have made me who I am.
They say that life must be lived moving forward, but that doesn’t mean looking back is such a bad thing. I believe that our past shapes our present and helps us make the decisions that mold our future. I know that apartment taught me many things, I just wish it wouldn’t have eaten my fucking keys. ha ha
(I would like to note that I’m in no way proud of my actions that night in the bar, nor do I think fighting in public or period is cool in anyway. It happened and I learned a very valuable lesson because of it.)