Night haven.

As you may suspect after I type for a bit, it is 2:02 in the AM, and I'm slowly getting tired. A mocha and IBC Black Cherry later (I really didn't need them for anything in particular), sleepiness is finally creeping over me like a nice blanket.

But as I sit here in my living room, with Leslie out like a light on the couch, and the rest of my roomies in bed, and with a single table lamp glowing its heart out, I am taking in the serenity of my surroundings in comparison to all that I hear outside me walls. Down the hall = stupid drunks. Outside = stupid drunks. Yelling under echoey train bridge = stupid drunks.

In here = blissful serenity and perfect soberness. Oh sure, after a medium mocha and that soda, and after watching Zombieland, I was feeling buzzed, but nonetheless, I have taken so much personal pride lately in not being a drunken fool, as basically all my neighbors are. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against alcohol, but this over-consumption and being-really-loud-and-dumb thing is just...dumb. Seriously, where's the fun in not even being able to remember what you did last night, and feeling like poops in the morning? Not sure I understand, I guess.

So here I sit, pondering my surroundings in my little sleepy head, and just taking in the fact that I am smack in the middle of Minneapolis and feeling quite at home. That always baffles me. I am such a homebody, that I feel like nowhere but my original home could ever have the same happy feeling in it. But it does come pretty close here, sometimes. In a different way. I've struggled with brutal nostalgia in the past, as I have mentioned so many times over the course of this blog, and I am repeatedly baffled by how little I've let it affect me this year, even if some nostalgia-rattling changes have happened, I suppose.

Anyways, I'm rambling. Sorry. I get this way at night, as I suppose many do. You're thinking about one thing, then either forget that train of thought, or are to tired to finis...

Yeah.

"I can't wait for you to pee in a bush."

There is a special taste of the nice, loud, slurring voices that just went past my apartment. Dang, they are exceptionally loud tonight. Seriously, why would you hang out in an apartment hallway?

I'm just hoping no barf awaits us when we wake up in the morning. So far it hasn't happened, but you never know.

Oh, the joys of living in a Dinkytown apartment. I think this will be one of those times I look back on in my life and realize how much I learned while living here. I suppose you could say that about anywhere you lived, but there are certain places that always stick out more. And I think this will be one of them.

Oooo, me eyes do not wish to stay open now. And I am really struggling to type a full sentence. Now I am starting to rtpe with me eyes sloced. (haha, that was supposed to tell you that I am typing with my eyes closed. Not workin' too hot.)

Well, that's all for now. I'm not even sure why I wanted to tell you this.

Hey, at least I'll remember that I did it in the morning...

Grood nights.

Songs of the Night:

Mílano by Sigur Rós

One for the Road/Storm Clouds -- 3:10 to Yuma Soundtrack.

Kreeheekreeheekreehee by that killdeer bird outside.