My window seat has an inconveniently placed electrical outlet.

So I can’t properly sit in it and write with my mug of coffee with my Ray-Bans and beanie that sits on my head like a tea doily and think about the meaning of life and play the Fleet Foxes and The Decemberists because obviously I am a hipster.

 

That’s right, it’s time to discuss the layout of the dorm room in which I currently reside.

 

Entrance, you see the side of my desk, which has various memories from my time here so far, including a lei from the Skidmazing Race (yes, I got lei’d on the second day of orientation, I move quickly), a page of lists a few friends and I made during the boring as scheisse lecture on diversity (It’s funny how the least diverse schools focus on how diverse they are), some pictures from home (I love my family), and a few cards and programs from various events during and after orientation. Pass my desk and its jank rocking chair (it rocks back hard and has no momentum on the swing forward. My bed is to the right, I’m on top, my roommate Dan is on the bottom. Pass bed, collect $200. Between the two beds is my wardrobe. Pass the wardrobe, you hit my other rookie Kojo’s bed on the left, and the fridge and window seat on the right. Towards the back wall are Kojo and Dan’s desks, hectic as anything with papers everywhere and printers and wires. My area is very very neat, generally. I try not to judge.

 

I’m currently triumphing through Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night for class tomorrow. So excited.

 

My friend Meredith refuses to give me a bite of her Chef Boyardee Fake Ravioli and I’m obviously writing this in hopes that she’ll see this and laugh. I’ll occasionally include something like this to add to the slight awkwardness of my blog and to make people feel awkward too.

 

I’m tired of living on the stage, a life that’s only on the page.

 

That’s a total lie. Lyrics from Goodbye from a pretty scheissy musical entitled Catch Me If You Can, based on the movie of th same title. Aaron Tveit, a deity of modern theatre (despite being a totally nasty and unfriendly person offstage), rocked it towards the end of the show, and it was one of two good songs in the show. The other one, called Don’t Break The Rules, in Act I, was the best musical number I’ve ever seen. But the rest of the show sucked. A lot. The music’s pretty neat though.

 

Okay, music is indeed the food of love, so I have to play on and finish the first 3 acts of What You Will.

 

Kev.

About Kevin Berry

jamba juice. mennonite. enneagram.
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