Woah, life is for sure happening right now...

All the sudden things are taking off left, right, up, down, backwards… woah! School started two weeks ago and already stress is high. Hours are cut at Lunds, which is great because now that I don't feel like a live there I can provide something similar to decent customer service ;)
Also, tonight was the new Cosmic's training night/pseudo grand opening. Because we havn't yet passed health inspection we couldn't legally sell anything, but we sure can give shit away! So we made mochas, smoothies, shakes, and chais all night long. The remodel looks FAN-fucking-tastic. Hardly recognizable. Two 50' flat screen TVs, new booths, new floors, new patio, new register (one that actually works), and a semi-new staff that is excited to get things off the ground! Really, can't wait for things to get set in a groove.
Back to school - very interesting material (what is not to like about pharmacology?!?), small classes, spunky and knowledgable teachers. There is only one thing, and it has more to do with me than anyone else. It is going to be super hard NOT to yell at a few of the people in my class... they are what i would describe as "over-sharers". Don't get me wrong, it is GREAT that you have something more to bring to the table as far as personal experience - but i DO NOT want to know about your own personal recovery, or the fact that your daughter is a crack addict who isn't smoking crack but thinks she can drink normally, and i SURE as hell don't care about what you think of perscriptions for those with mental illness in early recovery. I just DON'T need to know that much about you. I would understand perfectly if you put it hypothetically - there is no need to make it impossible for me to respond/say anything relating back to your stories without sounding like a douche bag, or pissing you off. It is too personal, ya know? I don't want to give you unsolicited advice, or try and assess your life. That is why YOU see a counselor, or why YOU take the time out of your day to talk to someone who can DO something about it. Just all around uncomfortable.

Time-management is going to be stupid difficult this semester. Working 20 hours at Cosmics, 12-15 at Lunds, in class Monday and Wednesday Nights 6-930, and maybe meetings in there? A sponsee perhaps?
Life is happening. and I am soooo greatful it is.

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The Northern Shore

Long time, no type blogosphere!

I honestly don't remember the last time I updated you all! (you all=the 6 who are officially "following" me).

Right now I am sitting in a hotel room with my parents and brother (who are all asleep) in Silver Bay, MN along Lake Superior. Weather is beautiful, breeze is splendid, restaurants are phenomenal. The perfect way to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

Tonight I ate Caribou for the first time, and boy was that a treat. Tender, shredded goodness matched with a fine gouda and butter on wild rice bread - scrumptious!! Top that off with a 1919 Rootbeer Float and you are ready for a 5 star nap!

That is all that has been going on in the very recent past.

But, since it has been 2+ months since I last updated, I should mention that I finally cut my hours at Lunds, and went Prime Time Part Time, meaning: I can not work more than 20 hours a week, can only work Thursday-Sunday, and do not get Health/Retirement Benefits. But in that package of semi-negatives, there are a few good things. I will be getting paid four bucks more than before, and I will have more time to do WHATEVER I WAAAAANT. Which is sleep, eat, poop, eat, sleep, poop, poop, sleep, eat, and then spend every other waking hour either with Claire before she leaves for the UK, or at Caribou to maintain my Mayorship.

Other than this - and excluding romances (which are non existent at the time) - my life is perfect.

Cash will soon be low, and coffee/smokes will be scarce... but we shall carry on, Friends.

Hello, and Goodnight.

"Thats what you get when you let your heart win, whooooooooaaaaaaaa-oooo-ooooo"

-Paramore

Grandpa Max

I recieved this picture in an email from Gerri after a talk about how she came upon this blog while googling both herself and my Grandfather. It was a little spine tingling - until i remembered that you can find anything you want on the internet. I am very happy she discovered it, because as it turns out there was a lot we had in common and much to talk about that had until then gone unsaid.

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So I am just recovering from what people call a "summer cold". Uhhh, what?! That shit is too contradictory, even for me. I can go all winter getting only one tiny cold, but as soon as it gets nice out my throat feels like it is a bed of hot coals and may close completely at any second, and my entire body aches. As far as I am concerned, there is no worse feeling than having an aching body without doing any kind of physical activity. It is almost enough to make me want to be active - until I remember what that involves: getting off the internet, putting on something other than terribly matched plaid and horizontal stripped shirts with obnoxiously colorful/dirty worn out shoes that are hardly suitable for walking, let alone exercising.

Then I recall the one and only experience I have at a gym as an actual member. I got a membership at LA Fitness not long after new years, not as a New Year's Resolution, but just because that happened to be when I had the money/motivation to go in and do the minor paper work involved. I didn't go for the first week, but then decided to go to a spin class with my friend Ashley, who I had made a deal with to be exercise partners with. Now, for someone who has played some sports before in the past, from community league soccer ( I quit T-ball after they took the tee away) to JV Tennis (my sophomore year of HS to keep me 'out of trouble'), I was no where near mentally prepared for a spin class. Me and Ashley are stretching for a bit before the class starts, and I am busy observing the other people who would be cycling. So far, no indication I am out of my league. In fact, there are a few people I am sure were over the age of 65; I could totally do this.

We get settled on cycles, doing a little warm up stuff, so far so good. Just like riding a bike, eh? Well, then the music starts bumping and the lady from behind the front counter (who happens to be more than a little intimidating and VERY intense) grabs the bike meant for the leader/instructor person. She tells us to put the resistance of the bikes at 90 degrees and to "Go, go, go! You can do it guys, Just thirty more second then we'll lower it to 45!".

Uhhhh, WHAT?! Thirty second?! 90 degrees?! No, I can not even move the pedals at 90 degrees. But I am not going to punk out in the first thirty second. It was only a half hour class right? Wrong. Ashley told me half way through it was 45 minutes. That was a lie too!! The shit was one hour long, and it only got worse. We were going from sitting, to standing, to pedaling as hard as we can, to "taking it easy" (which is hard to do when the whole time you have been gasping for air from the get go). By the end I was simply sitting on my bike, no resistance, but pedaling, trying to keep from throwing up. The 65 year old next to me was still going strong, and apparently didn't want the class to end.

Lesson learned: Exercise is actually bad for you. Especially cycling.

Needless to say I did not return to LA Fitness. Ever. To this day. I get shivers thinking about it.

Now, after hopefully not overdosing on Ricola and ice cream, I bid you ado. Adue? Ahh-dooh. Pfft, the French.

"I think we're going crazy. Her left eye is lazy. She looks so Israeli. Nicotine and Gravy." -Beck

ПРАВДА

Warning: This is going to be an especially long posting due to the fact that I am sitting in the car with my parents for the next three and a half hours.

The cousin closest to me in age had his grad party last night at his mom's place in Chokio, MN which happens to be a three and a half hour drive from St. Paul. Not too bad at all, I just slept the entire way. Upon arriving we ate delicious pork sandwiches, and I helped myself to a fistfull of RedVines!!! I can't understand why I love them so much seeing as how they taste like fake licorice. But maybe every other licorice candy are the fake tasting ones?! We can can ponder this later; Now on to more important issues...

I just wanted to take a minute to give my little cousin Sydney (who doesn't read this... Hopefully) a shout out. She is about to be thirteen and has nearly as much sass as I did myself was I was that age. It was so great to be able to call her out on it, and also throw the whole "I'm an adult, I know what I am talking about" BS at her and have her buy it. But actually. Is was crazy to see how much she and her brother and their older sisters have grown up in the past couple years.

After eating too many redvines and pork I laid my head down on the davenport for a few minutes to catch some more Z's. Good thing I did too, my mother woke me up saying that we were going to head over to Grandma's place a few towns over in Clinton, MN, but not to worry because we were going to return later for the Chokio Street Dance. Ho boy. I decided that it was neither the time nor the place to display my "joy" concerning said street dance, and held my tongue. Nodding and smiling, if course.

When we got back to Grandma's I immediatly went to sleep more (I was really really tired this weekend, my first one off in months) and was awoken some hours later my the rapping of my mother's nails on the bedroom door. My mother is a very smart women, but you would think that after the first five times she told me they were going and getting no reaction from me she woulda left me to sleep. Not my mama. Leavin out the lengthy details, I ended up going to the street dance.

Now, the street dances my parents remember from their youth really do sound fun, but I bet they did not go with their parents, and they were enjoying adult beverages. Not only was I there with my parents, but I was sober (thank god). And not that it was torture, people watching was great. Not my crowd though. And I hate when I talk about country people being different and people assume I mean stupid. Some of the smartest people I have ever met have been farmers, sons and daughters of farmers, or just small town residence. But the fact of the matter is, being a city boy in a town of 443, hanging out with the parents at a street dance, we stuck out. By the end of the night there I really wish I has grown up in a small town. It is amazing how small and singular you can feel in the cities. I am sure you can feel it in the country too. But it seems so much more together and homey. I have an appreciation for the difference in lifestyles between a country residence or a city sliker, whether it is a concious different choice or otherwise.
That make sense? Good.

My grandma's church celebrated 125 years of being a congragation. It was the church my mom as baptized in, confirmed in, married in, the church my grandpa's funeral was in. I have a lot of memories going there with my grandparents when I would spend the week with them in the summer. We have a coffee mug from the church's 100th anniversary, and I was slightly dissapointed not to see any for sale this time. It also made me sad when my mom said it probably wouldn't be there in six to ten years because the congragational average age is no lower than sixty. That would be so so sad if they ha to just stop after so long. It would just become another abandoned building along the side of the road, waitin for time to eat it up and history to forget it.
Just like the rest of us, right?


"I love my baby mamas. They get my highway honors, gotta take care if them kids, like President Obama" -Lil Wayne

She's got both hands in her pockets...

I listened to part of Alejandro in the car with my parents on our way west. I think after bout a minute my dad subconciously turned it off because there is magically no more music, haaaaahahah.
Last night was so strange! I hung out with Claire, Mollie, and Mollie's friend Anna at this coffee shop called The Coffee Grounds (potential new hang out) and listened to this band called I Like You. It was one ukelayle, drums, two guitars, and one upward bass. I don't know how I would describe the genre they are in, but it was a very happy go lucky dancy skits. Mollie and Anna had met the upward bass player at this "hippie camp" in Arkansas right before those crazy killer floods started going on over there. He was pretty hilarious, and together the entire band was just so goofy, but I could for sure take them seriously. The drummer wore tie-dye overalls and had a GIANT JewFro.
When I went out for a smoke with Claire in tail, we were soon follwed by the drummer, whose name is David, and he invited us to a party that I Like You was going to play at after the coffee shop. It was less than a block and a half from Steph's house, and belonged to a guy who went to central and it was his brother's birthday. We decided since we had nothing else to do we might as well at least stop by.
Upon arriving to the party we all became I Like You groupies/roadies. Meaning we helped carry the drum set inside and a few amps. Basically it was a really small house with wayyyy to many drunk kids and wayyy to many hipsters. Then the music started and we had wayyy to many drunk, dancing hipsters. There were Kai a lot of people from central that had graduated 2007, but in particular there ws a girl that I recognized but didn't really know. She came up to me and started telling me that when I was fifteen I was hanging out at treasure island playground stealing bikes and putting them in the back of an SUV, and somehow caused her and her friends to be accosted by the police! I guess I dissapeared and her and her friends ran into me again down at the monument by the river an I was talking about how I had been doin some dumb shit. Now, it is very possible that something SIMILAR to this maybe happened, but it sure as hell was not me and she forsure did not believe me when I told her it was not me. There were plenty of times I could have been completely blacked out and I wouldn't remember it, but I am 99%sure that A) that never happened and B) was not me.
Basically things only got stranger, but in sum it was a great night!!

It Ends Tonight

GeoTagged, [N44.94685, E93.16715]

Tonight was the last night of Cosmics Coffee as I have always known it. Freddy certainly did deliver when he said that he would go out with a bang; I would estimate probably 200 people over the course of sox hours (which I feel is more than we usually get in a month). So much food, too many espresso shots, I felt as if I was drunk. Made a fool of myself as if I WERE drunk. Kissed so many people, danced on the bar, and smoked a cigarette inside after the clock struck one and it was officially over.
I really have no idea where I would be without that shop. Probably not in school or sober.
I talked to my personal psychic ( ;] ) tonight. With all these random psuedo-relationships/random hook ups it would seem I am trying to find validation or definition as to who I am or who I want to be. I need to focus on me, and not what other people can bring to my life to make it worth wild. It is good to know I am on re right track, and that grandp Max is alright, happy, and always with me.
My life us better than I ever could have imagined. So I have decided I am going to start living it and not spend so much time trying to CREATE or will what I think I want.

Love you all, friendos.