at what point does it become my bed?
hoops
I had a mixed day with the bracket.
I watched a lot of hoops today. a whole lot of hoops today. early, it was at the sports editor’s house with a few other people. sports editor and his wife just became three. their son is 11 days old. 11 days! he’s amazingly small. eats, sleeps, poops.
it’s unbelievable how calm sports editor is through all of this. though, I guess he’s 25, and it’s time to grow up, start having kids. I’m 25, though, and that’s not coming along any time soon. I am a bit of a late bloomer.
sports editor and his wife have a close friend who I had lunch with once, a while back, and nothing came of it. she was there today. I see her at these sports editor functions all the time, and I don’t know what the deal is, but feels like there’s tension between her and I. like we got beef.
anyway. Temple let me down. so did Utah. and that’s some bullshit about West Virginia.
but Wisconsin over Florida State and Siena over Ohio State got me back in it. and so did Cleveland State over Wake Forest. I picked that, because Cleveland State’s in the Horizon League with Valpo, and they won the league championship over Butler in Hinkle Fieldhouse, and that’s impressive. and because, more importantly: fuck the ACC.
that kid was so tiny. but he’s in good hands.
I should ask for a fade
I’m at the point where every day is flirting with the idea of a haircut. that’s heavy.
“oh fuck, somebody called the cops”
my neighbors downstairs have been calling the landlord and complaining about the late-night noise from the neighbors upstairs. so now the neighbors upstairs are on his shit list, and he’s not going to renew her lease, and he wants her out early if he can get her out early, and he called me and told me all of this in a ten-minute telephone call. it was fucking weird, man. like he called and wanted to gossip about it. it just went on and on.
and though I have never called to complain about them (though they may deserve it) I feel some sort of responsibility in this. which sucks. calling the landlord is like calling the cops. it just, eh. you don’t want to do it without justification.
It never becomes your bed.