Summer Ends

I live in a shoebox. It is a comfotable shoebox which I have furnished with a chair, a small antique desk, a futon pad on the floor on which I sleep, and a table. My bedroom is more of a storage facility than a place to sleep: boxes are stacked agains the wall and floorspace is sparse. My place is just large enough for one, but a bit cramped for one and a dog. My apartment is an addition onto a house that is yet unoccupied; however, in a matter of days a gaggle of undergraduate girls will take up residence on the other side of my wall. I live next to the football stadium in what is known as the "undergraduate slums." Next door to me live several undergraduate boys and two unruly dogs. Their backyard is decorated with tiki torches and empty bud light cans. The only place to eat within walking distance is a mongolian barbeque where I once ate 4 or 5 years ago. I have not been back since because it made me ill. My office is 14 blocks south, making it too far to walk, but too close to drive to work. Though the neighborhood is quiet now, the kids are trickling in, and I expect mass convergence next weekend. The traffic is bad and broken bottles litter the foot of every other driveway, making walks with Sebastian precarious. And though I am a bit alienated this far north of where I used to live, and though I am struggling a bit with not having Matt around anymore to keep me from working and take me grocery shopping, I think being here will be good for my productivity. This year really needs to be about finishing up the dissertation and that it will be. Right now my sights are set on getting to Amsterdam and joining up with Tyson in St. Petersburg in May.

Tyson left today which for me marks the end of the summer. The summer began in May this year with my trip to Georgia and, appropriately I think, terminated in my friend's 5am departure this morning. Several days ago Todd left for Ohio and then Berlin (for 1, possibly 2 years). With the departures of Tyson and Todd, the end of NAPSS Hendrick's Nights, and leaving the nest at 928 S. Mitchell, I feel like this is a bittersweet new beginning. Strangely, I feel like a stranger in Bloomington. It is probably a good time to leave and I'm excited to take the next step.

From my shoebox, this is Brian. Over and out until our next installment.