The Day After Labor Day

I opened the passenger door to unpack my things. I had packed the food items in shopping bags on the passenger side -- canned foods, snacks, soda, Gatorade, lemonade, and other various drinks. I reached in to grab a handful of plastic bags to take up to my mini-fridge inside the dorm. As I pulled the bags out of the car, the lemonade ripped through the bottom of the bag, hit the side of the curb, and exploded all over my pants, my shoes, my car, and all inside my shopping bags.

The night was off to a good start.

It took me about two solid hours to bring everything up the stairs and into my dorm room. I angrily took the broken plastic bag, stuffed it inside some other non-broken bags, and carted them up the stairs along with my other goods. I threw the plastic bags on the floor so I could dispose of them later.

Please, don't ask me why I brought so much stuff home for the weekend. If you did ask, I'd lie and tell you that I was panicked in the midst of a hurricane crisis. If you didn't ask, then you'd be my friend.

For all of the die-hard fans of the popular Chapman household candy, chocolate NIPS, you'll be saddened to know that they are SOLD OUT across America. If anyone can acquire some chocolate nips, you'll be my best friend. If you give me some, I will, however, be forced to kill your firstborn child.

I was relieved to find that Kurtis was not home when I arrived. Nothing against the kid, but coming home to your college dorm after a horrible weekend of mishaps, it's good to be able to sit down and allow yourself to breathe. Ask any of my close friends, and they'll tell you that I like to have my alone time. Everyone needs it; I'm no exception. Regardless, I like to come in and be able to have some time to myself. If not for me, then for the sheer fact that I have a dump truck full of articles ranging from dirty clothes, computer parts, books, papers, LEMONADE AND PLASTIC BAGS, and a bunch of other miscellaneous items. Needless to say, I take up the entire room with my belongings. It's good to have some time, also, to put away all my toys. It takes me about twenty to thirty minutes to set up my computer. I love having peace and quiet while I'm doing that. Every time I set my computer up, it seems like people have to complement me in some ridiculous fashion.

PettyUmps43: So, you're pretty good at computers, eh?

It's about that time when I feel the need to whip my hand around with superhuman speed and break their legs off. Please, don't tell me that I'm good with computer set-up, grandma. Most kids my age can do it with their eyes closed.

Back to my peace and quiet without my roommate. Did I also mention that the EVIL was not in their dorm, either? Yeah, it's true. I had the entire place to myself. Just me, myself, and...I...

Was it really any surprise that about five minutes after I got back, all three of them walk in with, what seemed like, a two friend minimum. At last, I felt like I was back at a high school club meeting.

?WheresWaldo?: Alright, kids. Now, remember to bring two friends for next week's meeting! We want to have the best club in the school! The more members, the better the club. It doesn't even really matter what we do! Welcome to the French Club!

Back to the end of my life -- they walk in, nine of them, all looking around, touching things (mainly each other), and looking at me like I'm the new boy in jail. I was about to throw up, when...

xxJohnxx: Hey, Jesse. How was your weekend?
Me_Me_Me: Good. I didn't have power for a lot of it, but my house wasn't affected at all. I basically just looked out the window at the rain until something fun came along. And then I ate it.
xxJohnxx: Awesome. Dude, so, yeah, we have some people here.
Me_Me_Me's brain is in idle mode.
xxJohnxx: So, yeah, if we get to loud or anything, just yeah, just like, tell us to be quiet, or yeah. Cool, thanks.

He actually thanked me. Like, he did me a favor. Thanks for bringing in the cast of COPS, except, there's not actual cops. Instead, there's just the cracked out people in their white wife-beaters, beating their wives, having sex in the middle of my floor -- yes, my floor, sex, sex, sex, and more sex. Having babies, making love, and...oh, sorry, I got Seussical the musical confused with my dorm room. What an amazing show, by the way.

Anyway, he thanked me. Jerk.

So, I just packed my LEMONADE and other items away. First, I started my with my computer. Speaking of which, I should put some music on.

Current Music: OCEAN AVENUE! WHOO! ANYTHING'S BETTER THAN THE CRACK PARTY IN MY COMMON ROOM!

Current Mood: Suicidal (please don't refer me to any hotlines, people. I am the person who answers those calls).

For those of you who don't know, the common room is the "living room," essentially. It's the room that connects the two dorm rooms, and the bathroom. I spend most of my time in the common room as I'm exiting or entering the dorm. On any given day, I'd say I'm in that room about ten to twenty seconds. Right now, I'm actually not sure what's going on in there. I hear dice rolling, and I know some "illegal drinking" is going on. Actually, I don't even know that. I know nothing.

Kids.

So, I'm thinking that sleep is a horrible idea. I mean, that entire idea comes from the fact that I wish NOT to sleep tonight. There should not be class for UCF students tomorrow, firstly. No one else has class tomorrow. FPC, USF, DBCC, yeah, none of them. I'm mad about that. Anyway, about sleeping. I think it's a waste of time. I could be putting a huge journal entry on here all night, detailing each and every passing second. Someone famous never slept because he thought we were wasting our lives away...I think it was a famous painter, Mussolini, perhaps? I'm not sure.

One of the friends of the EVIL came in and talked to me about movies.

joeIthink: So, yeah, I hear you're a movie buff?
Me_Me_Me: Yes.
joeIthink: Awesome, what's you're favorite movie.
Me_Me_Me: Yeah, I get a lot of criticism for this, but I'd have to say The Matrix Trilogy.
joeIthink: DUDE! I love all of those movies.
Me_Me_Me: Wow, so many people don't like those movies. I mean, most people like the first one and then their brains explode.
joeIthink: Yeah, I hear you. They don't understand anything. I love the second one, I think, the best.
Me_Me_Me: Awesome. Yeah, so what are your favorite movies?
joeIthink: Oh man, my favorite movie of all time is Braveheart.

So, that was the end of our conversation. He left and retreated back to the common room party. I resorted to unpacking the rest of my things. I got everything packed away pretty quick.

The party in the common room took off pretty quick. The small 10'6 x 11 space was host to over three hundred patrons. Many celebrity guests such as Tom Hanks, Matthew MacDermid, and Richard Gere were sighted there.

BUT THEN...THE PARTY IN THE COMMON ROOM WAS OVER, I REPEAT, THE PARTY IN THE COMMON ROOM WAS OVER.

Kids.

I got most of my things packed away pretty quick. I left some of the drinks out still, in case I wanted to take a little taste. The hardest part, I guess, was the computer setup. You have to remember that I have to cart everything up eight flights of stairs to the second story! The food is all safe and sound. I'm not sure if I told you, but my dresser is a pantry. I'm not exactly sure that it's normal to do that, but I do it anyway. You see, kitchens in standard dorm rooms are like six-disc CD changers installed on toilets -- it doesn't happen. So, I have to store everything in the dresser drawers. That's one of the reasons why I have all my clothes on hangers. I mean, how could I put everything in the drawers if I had clothes in there? I couldn't. You're silly.

I tried to write a few journal entries back home (while I had power, that is). Two problems confronted themselves at my house.

1. I had company at my house. Having people over does not support the proper journal entry environment.
2. I wasn't at college. Being at home and writing about college is like being in the forests of Africa and wanting to see a savanna elephant. Good luck, kid.

I'm thinking the real reason that I can't write journal entries back home is because there are observers. People actually see what's happening, so I don't feel like I need to tell anyone. That, and the fact that life seems somewhat normal back home. Here, my goodness, it's like...a...mooovviiee...???? Yeah. At any rate, I'm glad to be back.

Good news and bad news about coming back to college. Good news: you get to settle down again, and get some peace and quiet. No more power-outages, no more hurricanes, and no more crazy dancers in your front lawn (long story). Anyway, the bad news sucked pretty bad. The mini-fridge was unplugged ... for some reason or another. The last thing I want to do, However, is blamE someone for this Vile and ultImately unspeakabLe tragedy.

Everything was packed away except the some Gatorade and LEMONADE. It was unknown to me at the time that the mini-fridge was unplugged until I tried to open it -- only to no avail. I guessed it was, built up pressure or something from not opening it for a few days. Of course, I have to pretend to be all macho, and I fling the door open and out comes soda cans, water from the ice, MOLDY CHEESE, ham, hot dogs, oh God, it was disgusting. They hadn't been refrigerated all this time. They were all over the floor, and...I wanted to throw the entire fridge out the window.

Against my better judgment, however, I decided not to throw the refrigerator out the window and to, instead, clean up the mess. So, no fridge throwing for me, I guess (and to think, I could have made an Olympic sport out of this). So, I have a HUGE wad of soaking wet, dripping paper towels, meat products, water... slime... nauseating... ugh... garbage, and, it was nasty, to say the least. So, I reach for a plastic bag and I start cramming all this stuff in the plastic bag. I finish throwing the worst smelling pile of filth alive into this plastic bag, tie the top, and off I go to the dumpster. Everything seems fine until I stand up, whip the bag up off the ground, and out flies everything out of the bag onto my pants, my shoes, my dresser, and my floor. It was the same bag from earlier.

The night ended good, too.