Driving away

Raw emotion. Those two words have become the most pitiful combination of syllables and spaces to date. Because the meaning behind them almost never exists, at least not in our worlds.

We see examples of what it could be on television. Stories of people thrown so wildly into situations that they stumble around oblivious to all but their own turmoils. Anger, sadness, love, grief, joy. How often have you seen someone cry on a tv show. Or punch a wall. I ask rhetorically, of course (hence the lack of question marks).

And this is exactly why we're so drawn into these plots, however unrealistic. Characters on your screen are more capable than most people you'll meet on this planet. Everything they do is dripping with fake raw emotion, but usually performed in a way that makes the likelihood of that personality real. And we're reeled in further.

This thought-process comes to me after watching the last two episodes of House. Damn, they were good. To the point where, when I had finished watching, I could do nothing with myself but stare out my large living room windows into the adjacent trees. I didn't want to think, fearing I would lose the image of the emotion I had just shared with my computer screen (not that way...). But every part of me wanted to do something else entirely...walk around, jumping jacks, whatever. So I just sat there and stared, until a phone call from a friend shook me back to reality. And the thought of Popeye's chicken wavered my mental reverie (a little redundant there, but you'll deal).

So there's my rambling of the day. Sorry I haven't posted for a while - the past few weeks have been dedicated to sleeping off the terror that was finals week and settling into my new apartment and job in Cincinnati.

I started my trek north...or west...northwest? Did I even go north? Ehh, let's just continue. I started my journey to Cinci last Monday (May 26th) by driving up north to see my cousins Audrey and Margaret in Pittsburgh. After a night of delicious Buca and the comfort of a not-so-comfortable mattress, I left early Tuesday for my destination. Another 260 or so miles of driving southwest brought me to the Towne Commons Apartments in Cincinnati, Ohio. I had made it.....almost.

To get into my new apartment, I had to resign a revised lease and pay my first installation of rent (which included a week of May, all of June, and the rest of the security deposit...for a total of $1,215. Oh joy). While I was ready to pay that *twitch* amount, I was not ready to pay it as a money order - a little something I forgot to read over in the lease. Whoops. So off I go to the closest bank called Fifth-Third, the choice bank of Ohio (I guess), where I am told that I cannot purchase a money order if I'm not a member of the bank. Rats.

The woman at the leasing office then makes a smashing suggestion: just drive to your bank and purchase one. My bank, called the Cecil County School Employees Federal Credit Union, has a single location. Go figure, it's not in Cincinnati.

After ruling out the several other options of..:
1. Withdrawing $1,215 from an atm and buying a cash money order (the limit for a withdraw at CCSEFCU is surprisingly not as high as $1,215 *SARCASM*)
2. Getting CCSEFCU to raise the withdraw limit...
"We can't do that," said the bank.
"But I really have no other way of getting the money order," I stammered, "and this would only be one ti-"
"We can't do that, I'm sorry. I don't know what you can do."
Thanks for putting in an effort...jerks.
3. Attempting to fax the money order from Maryland (once again, surprisingly, that's not allowed. who knew).

...I finally had to give into the final resort of getting the money wired to Cincinnati through Western Union for a nominal fee of....$90. Ouch. In conclusion, thanks Mom for running all over Cecil County and dealing with my stupidity to wire me a ridiculous amount of money to pay for an over-priced apartment. Thank you :).

So now I'm sitting here in a fairly barren apartment (with a "new" *cough Goodwill cough* couch, some folding chairs, an inflatable bed, and my computer. But as numbingly energy-consuming and expensive as this apartment is, it's mine. As soon as I pay back my parents.

Which means you all should visit. Because sitting here all by myself in an empty apartment gets a bit lonely.

Next time I'll post a little bit about my new job, which is RIDICULOUS. But in a good way.


Til then, take it easy all.



BTW: Ignore that last post on here. It makes absolutely no sense. And this is coming from the guy who wrote it. 5:30 in the morning on only about 2 hours of sleep in the past week does not a coherent post make. That is all.