Tag Archives: Lubbock


I’m sitting in a hotel room in Oklahoma City, en-route on our triumphant return from Lubbock.

Mission: Procure apartment
Status: Complete

Although rent is much more than I anticipated, I found an amazing apartment. If I am careful with my spending, I should be okay. My only requirement going into the search was a washer/dryer connection. Being a full-time student and (hopefully) part-time mag writer, I don’t want to have to find time to sit in a gross communal laundry room. So after visiting a few complexes, I fell in love with my to-be abode. Two story, one bedroom, one-and-a-half bath townhome. It has three closets, including a Harry Potter home under the stairs. Oh, and a balcony.

A balcony.

Anyhoo, after some courting of the complex folk, and proving I make real monies, I got myself a place starting August 6th. Huzzah!

A trip bonus: the purchase of a new bed! I’ve had a twin for, oh, 20 years now. In a few months, I’ll have my own deliciously plush full bed. Fabulous.

But, the trip wasn’t all balconies and shoe closets. I haven’t slept worth shit  I’ve been on a slanted couch and my parents snore to the point that I seriously think I can feel vibrations. I also haven’t had an appetite since we left on Saturday. NONE. I’ve eaten a bit, but haven’t actually wanted to. It’s like when you’re sick and you can’t taste anything but you need to eat because… well duh, you need to eat. That’s this. It’s terrible, and we’re on the road and it’s all bad food and I feel disgusting. Ugh.

Then there is this weird realization that hit me at 2:05 am last night when I couldn’t sleep. Of my eight closest girl friends in elementary/middle school, at least five are married or engaged. That number increases with the friends I added in high school and college. Babies are in the picture, too. Plus I have wonderful friends who aren’t that committed yet, but it’s not hard to see in the not-so-distant future. I know there’s no point in comparing myself to my peers, and I’m not looking to be in their position, either. But it’s hard not to feel like I’m somehow behind.

Yet another tangent: I spent 45 minutes walking around a deserted parking lot in Happy, Texas and got my first sunburn of the season! Woo!

Everything is okay, see?

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Please, no.

Roadtrips? Cool. Spontaneous random acts of driving? Even cooler.

A 6 am-9:30 pm drive from Kansas City to Lubbock? With your parents? A limited music supply? And no sleep the night before?

Hell on Earth.

Just thinking about doing it again on Wednesday makes me sick.

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You want ‘not exactly ready’? I’ll give it to you. Real apartment hunting. Last year wasn’t real. Jenny and I looked at three apartments, picked one, and went back to sign the lease on the same day. In retrospect, we got lucky that we could afford it and it had everything we wanted (two bedrooms3, two full baths, washer and dryer, appliances).

This year, I’ve got a list of almost 20 places that I must reduce to a manageable number in order to call and find out if they have availability, then book a tour accordingly. I just… UGH! It’s not easy. Few have washer/dryer connections in a one bedroom unit, and even fewer received good ratings from tenants. A lot have bad layouts, and many seem ridden with hideous appliances.

My whole life, I’ve had it easy. I still do. But it’s left me pretty sheltered about things and I’m nervous, not only about apartment hunting, but also what life will really be like on my own. A bad apartment would be a terrible way to start.

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I have none. Zip. Zilch. Zero.

I don’t know what I’ve done with my life this week (month?). I’ve watched some Netflix, but not that much. I’ve worked, but I HAVE to do that. I’ve played maybe 20 minutes of Playstation. I’ve only read one book on the before-grad-school reading list. I’ve blogged about nothing of substance. I haven’t even burned the CDs that I need to send to a couple friends.

I think I need more structure in my life. I think I’m ready for homework. I think I’m ready for a life that isn’t conducive to sleeping in and taking naps. I know I should be reveling in the freedom of college applications and test studying. I should be scrapbooking the shit out of my Drake years. Creating my own website. Learning ten ways to cook asparagus. Maybe working out, writing more, or at least seriously considering housing in Lubbock. But I’m not.

So, unless you have some magical motivation elixir, I’m just going to go take my laundry out of the dryer, not fold it for a couple days, and start watching Bond films in preparation for my last Bond post. And in a month, when I get that done, I’ll have at least accomplished something.

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Mood Music

I’m on this music kick, apparently.

Yesterday I received a letter–a package, rather–saying that I had been accepted into the Publishing and Writing graduate program at Emerson College. Emerson College in Boston, MA. [sidenote: Boston is a band. HA! This music stuff is great.] Here’s the breakdown:

Boston > Lubbock
Publishing and Writing </= Nineteenth-Century Studies
Emerson perks < Texas Tech perks.

So basically we’re at a standstill. Emerson would be an amazing program that would utilize both of my undergraduate degrees. And it’s in freaking Boston! But, Boston is expensive and the school isn’t forking over any funding. And, well, the publishing world is a scary place. I already don’t have a job, should I risk investing myself further? I have a serious decision to make, and I’m not really ready to do it. This is my future. This is big.

Now, here’s how this all relates to music:

I celebrated this East Coast acceptance with a three-hour drive to Sioux City, some Grape flavored Crush, and the Pirate Radio soundtrack. During this absolute fiesta, I decided that ‘Cleo’s Mood’ by Junior Walker and The All Stars is my theme song. Well, not exactly a theme song, but if I had to pick a song that played anytime I walked into a room? This would be it. Classy.


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