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6-1-03 // 1.32 pm "get busy living or get busy dying" "The Shawshank Redemption" is on TV again. Seems like it's a Sunday morning thing once a month or so. Matters not, though, as it's easily one of my favorite movies, and it's one that I seemingly never get tired of watching. I do find it a bit funny that I watch it so often, but always on TV, despite the fact that I own the tape. Hrm, first day of June. Doesn't feel like it, it feels like the beginning of March out there. Though I'm sure in a week or two it'll be an unbearable oven, so I should just enjoy it while it lasts. There are small children out in the courtyard, apparently forming teams to play a soccer match. Which is fine and all, as it's nice to actually see kids outside doing things for a change, rather than playing another game of something on the PS2, but then again, these kids are loud. Children have no understanding of the concept of voice modulation. They scream at the top of their lungs no matter what. These particular kids are very good at that. Plus earlier they were kicking their ball against the wall of my building, just below my window. Yesterday was Marc and Danielle's housewarming. They bought a nice little house in Dellwood, north county. I was actually a bit envious, as they have the freedom to customize their place as they wish. Remodeled kitchen, their own paint jobs in every room. It was nice, and the sort of thing Erin and I have always wanted to do to this apartment. The landlord won't let us, though, so we're stuck with off-white walls and any posters, paintings, and mirrors we hang. But yeah, it was a nice time, a barbecue. Skies were gray and the day was cool, contrary to all forecasts. Sat with Steve and Ryan H, caught up a bit, talked about old times and some new. Had a beer and some food, sat on a lawn chair on a hill and about fell over onto Erin several times. Very good stuff. I think I'll actually be seeing more of everybody in the near future -- in two weeks is Jared's bachelor party thing, at which I'll see Jared (natch), Steve and Ryan H, and then the Saturday after that, I'll probably be going down to Cape to see Ryan and Holly's new apartment. A good plan as that's also the day the new Harry Potter book comes out, and I'll be out of Erin's hair so she can dive into the book without bother. I was also going to take the opportunity of being down there to finally see my sister's apartment, but I think that weekend she'll be in the Ozarks with my parents and my dad's side of the family. I'm not going, I just didn't want to. I think I'm old enough to put my foot down in these sorts of situations, you know? A little while ago, I was walking down the hall, and stopped to admire the angle of a support beam or some other covered up part of this building's infrastructure, and for some reason, it filled me with an enormous sense of well being, of being home. I very much cherish having a place I can call that. Which I suppose is sort of silly, considering I come from a very stable family background. But in the more recent past, I spent nearly five years in transit between my parents house and college. Four months of the year in one place, eight months in the other. It's tough to establish a sense of belonging to either in that sort of situation. Ryan H said it best back in the day when he referred to "this shanty town called college". He's right, really. College is a favela of sorts, a temporary city of shacks on a hill. Well, the institution is permanent, but the occupation of the settlement is held by transitory people. Kids slowly (and hopefully) turning into adults. It's a great experience, one of my life's best. But at the same time, it's not condusive towards a true feeling of having a real place to call your own. It's easy to get nostalgic about college -- I'm guilty of it sometimes, I won't lie. But at the same time, it's another case of the brain first and foremost remembering the good times. The bad times are filed away with everything else, but you have to really think and dig them up. And nostalgia aside, I don't miss those days. Well, I wouldn't go back, that's what I'm really trying to say. I'm thankful for the friends I've made, but I wouldn't return for a million dollars. All rambling and such aside, here I am home. These walls, while only rented from someone else, are mine. My time spent here is on my own terms with the woman I love, and that's beautiful. I put headphones on to attempt to block out the yelling children. I don't want to lean my head out the window and tell them to be quiet, though, that would put me on the wrong side of crotchety old man, I think. But still, ugh. Loud kids are bad. I have a few things I should take care of today, like doing dishes, vacuuming, and generally picking up the place a bit. But I don't really feel like it, to be honest. I think I'm just going to sit here on the couch in my shorts, drinking coffee and watching the Cardinals with the sound off. I'll probably eventually shower, get dressed, and do a few things, but until then, I'm going to enjoy the pace and feel of this day.
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