thatnight.net

Is it just me, or does it seem like there are certain times of the year when bloggers blog less than usual? Perhaps they’re busy, or perhaps this is just an uninteresting time of year. Winter has yet to end up here, and I haven’t seen the sun since my last post (weeks ago).

I’ve decided that I love coaching so much, I’m going to spend the summer on the Chesapeake bay directing a summer lacrosse league. Although it may seem uneventful to be spending every day at the same place with the same kids and workers, you can’t beat living and eating for free as well as recieving a pretty nice paycheck. That, and the fact that I won’t really have anything to actually spend the money on all summer. Hooray for savings!

I’ve also discovered that my college offers a coaching minor. But that may be pushing it.

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Is life so wonderful because the sun is finally back, or is the sun finally back because life is so wonderful?

And how hot was Jon Stewart Sunday? And Jennifer Aniston? And Reese Witherspoon?

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Earlier today, my friend and I ventured to the outer limits of this God forsaken little town in order to seek out the almighty landlord of my new, glorious house. No, not an on-campus, bleak, fly-infested dorm. And not a shitty, stone-cold, cement hovel that consists of 50 tiny replicated apartments. It’s a warm, couch-filled, “hey guys let’s take a walk to our kitchen and bake some effing cookies” house. A home. Complete with stairs.

Our new landlord, however…not so warm. Her house, surrounded by black, graveyardesque rod-iron fences, was complete with a rotting wooden barn and an abundance of overgrown weeds. Upon ringing the doorbell, we were greeted by her overall-clad, long haired son. The woman, seated in the corner of a dark room, stared into a rickety TV, which was appropriately blasting the sound effects from a slasher movie. She was probably about 237 years old.

The more I thought about it though, the more I became comfortable with this additional aspect to my wonderful new residence. This woman could have very well been Leatherface’s mother, relocated to a placid college town to reap the benefits of cheap real estate. I’m postive he must’ve been hiding in one of those closets. And as long as we’re his family’s source of income, I’ll be damned if we aren’t lucky to have him on our side.

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