I moved back home last week. My mom and Aunt Jen drove me from Brooklyn to Minneapolis. I spent the entire time in the back seat, like an eight-year-old. It was representative of my life in many ways.
Over the 4th of July I returned to Stout to reunite with college friends. Like usual, I tried to not focus on "If I stayed" and just tried to be present, but we could have played a drinking game to "Had I stayed" and we all would have had alcohol poisoning. My brother drove me the 70 miles, which was very nice of him, and after spending the previous two and a half days in a car, I now feel that the Minneapolis-to-Menomonie trip is a piece of cake.
That Saturday, I had a tearful reunion with the original star of The UW, Betsy Ross!
For those of you who were not viewers of Season One of The UW, Betsy Ross and I were best friends when I was a freshman as a result of her dating my roommate, Whitey, for five seconds. Along with her roommate, Tina, the three of us were inseparable. But then Betsy got a boyfriend, and I needed a new posse, and while I still held her fondly in my heart, we didn't hang out as much anymore. We further drifted apart because Betsy does not use Facebook, MySpace, AIM, or text messaging, and maintaining our friendship required writing her notes on stationery. Nevertheless, she saw me and Jess walking around Menomonie on a "nature walk" (I called it this because we had left our cell phones at home), and she actually sent me a text message asking if I was in town! It was a delight to reunite with her.
That Saturday in the college town, a boy came to the house and he had a definite "boy bander" name. I managed to act like an adult when he was in our presence, but the minute he left I started hyperventilating like a sixth-grader at a Backstreet Boys concert in 1998. It was not my proudest moment. Then I added him on Facebook and he didn't add me back for FIVE WHOLE DAYS. I have now come up with the term "Facebook Anxiety", when you add someone and you await their pending request with great anguish.
The next afternoon, my friend Jess and I rode our bikes to the bar and I inexplicably brought along my toy wrestling belt.
Believe it or not, we weren't the only oddballs in the group, as other people at the bar were wearing wigs and oversize hats. One of them, a girl from North Dakota, came up to us to inform us that I was "pretty small to be the heavyweight champion."
In true Wisconsin fashion, I ordered a mug of Leinenkugel's (the only beer I like) and felt very manly, but then Jess and I ordered double drinks called "Pretty in Pink", which threw that whole feeling. We invited our good friend Mo Pang to come with us. She slept over that night and was sent home from her shift at Applebee's earllier in the day after she kept bringing food to the wrong table.
Menom was a blast, but all good things must come to an end, and I returned back to my melancholy existence in Minneapolis, preparing to job-hunt like a grown-up.
Returning to Minneapolis, I did end up getting a job. It is in North Minneapolis and is at Walgreens. No, it's not the most glamorous or lucrative, but you gotta do what you gotta do. Am I still depressed? Sure. Am I still sneaking vodka in Propel bottles in my room? Not every night. It may not be okay now, but I feel that sooner than later, it will be.
