I sit here in the B apartment in my bed, overlooking the vast wasteland that has become the Willard complex. The sky is grey, but there is no rain. The parking lot is filled with debris, newspaper, some sort of weird glitter, and random pieces of costumes from Hallowillard. Its terrifying. On one end the old basketball goal sits crooked with an old bike tired hanging from a string tied to it, while on the other end the skate ramp is filled with pine needles. There is no one to clear it. Everyone is gone. And the scene is like a bleak, post-apocalyptic wasteland.
It happened about four days ago now. On Thursday night the Virginia Tech Hokies won their final home game of the year against the Univerity of North Carolina Tar Heels and ever since then people have started to disappear. Not many at first, but one by one they all left until it was only me. A man alone with his thoughts. And his smartphone. With an eTrade app.
So upon entering this new world I try and find companionship. There is a possum who lurks around these parts, occasionally digging in to our trash when I leave it out. While we once were enemies (I've tried to kill him unsuccessfully many times), we now realize that we only have each other. What once started as a malicious dual of man vs. nature has now turned into some sort of ultimate bond between friends. Our lives depend on each other. I've named him Owen, and now he is all I have.
In this blog the gentleman of the house usually give you an update on the whereabouts of each other. For now I can only give you the last known locations of the men of B. Mike Lewis was to go on a missions trip to Haiti, but his car is still here, so he must have walked. Atta boy Mike. Brendan O'Connor had tickets with his family to see Cirque dul Soleil, but since he hasn't returned I can only guess that he joined them. John Leonard was last seen packing two guns into his car and driving off into the sunset. He must have known the apolcalypse was coming.
As for the rest of the apartments and the house, no signs of life have been detected. I've broken into A twice to reset their internet router, and the boys of C lock their house up pretty tight, so their was no getting in there. The house boys must have dissipated right out of nowhere because all of their glasses are still left on the porch, about thirty in all.
So now as I carouse around this vacant wasteland I can only hope that this is all some sort of dream and that come one day soon (Sunday perhaps) I'll wake up to find all of my dearest friends back home with me. Then I will yet again be able to have Old Testament talks with Joe Danehower and the other house gentleman. I'll be able to get medical advice from Dr. Sweeney. I'll be able to watch the boys of C pwn some n00bs on MW3. I'll be able to shoot things off the deck with the boys of B. What a beautiful day that would be.
But seriously gentleman, I love and miss you all and can't wait till you get back. I hope your break is spiritually refreshing and that your time with your families is great. The gift of community that we have here is unreal and I think I take that for granted. It becomes much more obvious when we aren't in it though. Like a fish out of water eh? Anyway, love you dudes a lot.
The Last Man Standing,
Isaac Lane Nagle III
P.S. The men of B, I asked Owen the Possum to move in, I hope that's alright. Mike, I put him in your room. Be careful though, he doesn't love to be surprised. He also hogs all the blankets.
Beyond Blacksburg: The lives of the men who once lived in a home called Willard.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
HaloWillard 2011
What comes to mind when I think "October"? I'm glad you asked. Yes, it is a month, so that is probably the first thing I think of. But secondly? HalloWillard. An event greater than Halloween. And it's two days before, so you know it's better. But just saying that probably won't convince you, which is why I decided to make a Top 10 Reasons to Come to HalloWillard List.
1. Live Music. Where else are you gonna listen to two spectacular singers for only $2 in one night?
2. Costumes. Everyone loves getting dressed up like witches and other crap like that. So we're gonna let you wear whatever costume you want here. You're welcome.
3. Sam Bowman is gonna be here. He's super good looking.
4. Leland Pearson is dressing up like his look a-like Mr. Tumnus. Don't act like you've never seen the similarities. Slap some horns and hooves on Leland and he could star in the upcoming Chronicles of Narnia movie.
5. Petting Zoo. This isn't a joke. House resident Evan Underwood is currently in the process of locating small animals to be present for a petting zoo. We've procured chickens, ducks and possibly a small goat thus far. We are in the market for a donkey.
6. Fun games. Pumpkin bowling? Super creative.
7. A special appearance by Gus Chiggins. Who doesn't love an imaginary prospector showing up and leading everyone in a a round of Square dancing?
8. The great outdoors. It's in the parking lot, so you can breathe all the fresh air you want.
9. Issac Nagle is going to dye his hair red for this event. Whaaat?!
10. There are gonna be baked goods! You can even bring some!
If those aren't ten good reasons to come from out of town to see this event, check out this video which will make it all the more clear...
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
If Walls Could Talk...
To: Current Residents
Boys, you know I have been around a long time; a long, long time. In fact, I’ve been in this same spot probably since your parents were kids. Sure, I’ve had a few facelifts over the years: you guys with the paint two summers ago, and when the landlord decided to go crazy and refinish the floors, but I’m basically the same house. And that’s why I’m finally speaking up. You guys are animals. I’m an old man, and you’re kicking the crap out of me. Therefore, I’ve put together a small list of grievances, in no particular order, of things that you have done over the past two years, which I would like to never take place again. Also, there are a few that I can deal with, just treat me a bit more gently when doing so.
1. Using the hallway as an archery range. It was bad enough last hunting season when Evan would go kill deer and then bleed them out and skin them in the driveway. Sure, it’s asphault, but how would you like me to pour deer blood down your arm? Not very much. So this year, I had a sneaking suspicion that the compound bow he brought back would bring bad tidings. And I was right. I don’t see one of you standing at the end of the hall way having arrows shot at you. And you know why? Because it’s not fun. You literally shot the arrow completely through the wall. And what if Jeremy had been in bed? You would have killed him, or at least injured him profusely. You’re idiots, don’t do that anymore.
2. The writing of cute little quotes on the wall. John, I know you’re all artistic and whatnot, but every single time you read something you find vaguely motivational, try to hold back from whipping out the paint marker and writing in all caps. I know tattoos are hip and all, but as stated, I’m an old man, and it’s just tacky. I do enjoy when visitors sign their name on the stairwell though in sharpie, it tickles a bit and makes me feel popular and whatnot.
3. Hygiene. This one should go without saying, as you’re all not four years old anymore, but really? James, your feet smell like rotting meat. Get some odor-eaters or something stat, or your shoes may disappear for good. And that’s just to start with you. I haven’t even brought up your gas and sweat. I’m surprised girls even look at you, let alone date you. I feel pity for her when she comes over, clean your room, do your laundry and wash your feet. Sam, you need to wash your hair more than once every two weeks. I know, I know, you don’t like how it fluffs up after you wash it, but I gurauntee you that your girlfriend will like it better when it doesn’t smell like greasy dog.
4. Leaving food out. Remember that time you left the salsa bowl on the counter for a month and a half? That’s not sanitary. You would eat dinner, with the old salsa just sitting there on the table, turning black and smelling. I know you could all smell it, and am sincerely amazed at the amount of effort you put into not cleaning; which brings me to the dishes. Seriously? What the hell. There is never a reason to have over forty cups lying around the house with varying amounts of water in them. This isn’t the movie Signs, Joe will never need to “Swing Away” and water-allergic aliens will never attack. I’m 80% sure.
5. Lighting random items on fire. I’m not sure what most of you know about chemistry, but Sam you’re a biology major, you should definitely know better. Plastic, photographs and other miscellaneous trash that you find does not need to be burned on my front porch. It singes the roof for one, and also all of your children will probably have a third arm from the plastic fumes you inhale while giggling.
6. Breaking glass. Evan, I know you love eating popcorn. And not the toss in the microwave kind either, you love eating the fresh kernels that you cook on the stove in oil, and then put your special popcorn salt on. And that’s cool my friend, real fresh. But there’s a clear and present danger every time you do. You are the definition of the term butter-fingers. As the number of glasses, bowls and plates that you have dropped and shattered on the ground grows swiftly, please take heed of my warning. Dry your hands. Don’t absentmindedly carry mason jars in your greasy paws.
7. Soccerball through the window. Sam, you are a soccer star. I know. You are the all time leading assist leader still at your alma mater. However, I am not a soccer star. I don’t have legs you see. So when kick the ball against the front of the house, don’t get all pissed when I “miss” the ball and it goes straight through your window. I am sorry about the glass shards which covered all of your clothes. My bad.
8. Fireball in the fireplace. I’ll admit, the fireplace is made for fires to be in. However, the purpose is to make the lodge warm and cozy during winter nights. The purpose is not to throw lighters as hard as possible into the flames and make them explode into a fireball that licks the ceilings and floors and almost singes off Jackson’s eyebrows. Dangerous and stupid. Oh, and change the batteries on the smoke detectors, because those obviously don’t work.
9. Climbing on the roof. I have a few issues with this. First of all, safety. If you’re gonna climb on the roof, you should buy a ladder. Your stingy selves decided to build one. That is idiotic. Secondly, my roof should have been replaced about 3 times at this point. It has not been replaced, because Mike Powell doesn’t really think it is necessary. So when you have a cookout to start off the year, and there are 40 people up on the roof throwing frizzbees and taking long-distance corn-hole shots, you’re playing with fire (not literally like the fireballs, but you get the point) The creaking you hear is not me enjoying myself. It’s groaning with the weight of lives in my hands.
10. Clean the chimney. It’s been years, and that’s the reason the house smells like burnt newspaper whenever you light it up. Also why the lodge fills with smoke. You guys are just too lazy to really care. Again, check the smoke detectors.
11. Couches everywhere. Do you need to have this many couches. Yeah, you have friends who visit and stay the night. No one needs this many couches. I think you probably have some you don’t even know about lying around. For example, the one in the back basement room. No one has entered there for about 3 months. That loveseat is a breeding couch for mice at this point.
12. Killing of mice. I applaud your effort in the war against mice (WAM). But there are much simpler ways of killing them. After you catch them on the sticky traps, don’t just launch them into the road, or stomp on them. Or cut them with a machete. I should’ve called PETA a long time ago, but you took out the house phone and keep your cells on you at all times. Except for Sam, he loses his in one of the 18 couches every 5 hours. But it’s that new iphone and I can’t figure out how to work it. Technology…
13. I miss the Willard street sign on the stairwell wall. I hope you learned your lesson about letting cops into the house. In this town, if you are in college you are always the culprit, whether you invited them in to investigate a robbery or not. I liked that sign covering the hole in the wall (from moving an unnecessary couch) and it pissed me off when that cop took it. He had no right to steal our stolen property. Well, maybe he did, but I can promise you that sign sat in his backseat for about a year before he just threw it away.
14. The amount of bikes locked to me. I understand 7. That number would correlate. But how in the world did 12 bikes end up in various places and states of disrepair around me? The beach cruiser is half buried in the backyard under the mini-ramp. The earth decided to reclaim that one. As is the Mongoose in the tree line separating me from the neighbors. I have watched the vines slowly choke the life out of it. The goose is no longer on the loose.
15. Repair my locks. You would think when you got robbed you would say to Mike, “Hey Mr. Powell, I know you thought we were joking before when we said that we don’t have keys to any doors in the house, but we were being serious. Could you replace the locks?” Instead, every night the front door hangs open and the side door is jammed shut as tight as you can, due to it being too large for the frame. I didn’t like when those hooligans robbed me, but I thought well maybe something would finally be done about the locks. It was not.
16. Bosom floods when it rains. Another thing to alert the landlord to. It’s funny that you call the back basement room the bosom, I agree. But when it’s filled with an inch deep of nasty water after it rains, it doesn’t feel good. It’s like Chinese water torture for me.
17. Joe and Sam’s makeshift soundproof wall. You two geniuses really went out of your way on this one. The basement is loud. Understandable. There’s no door to your room cause it’s at the bottom of the stairs, your decision. The fact that you ordered sound proof foam and attempted to design a makeshift entrance out of it? Unrealistic. I have heard James’ snores just as much as you guys have. Believe me, there is no material on earth that can block that roar from drilling into your ears.
18. Jackson’s Justin Bieber music in shower. He sounds like he is a 12 year old girl going through puberty. How you enjoy a song that says baby nigh a million times is foreign to me. So how bout when your dancing around singing with him, you turn it down a bit. I mean, geez. Even I have good taste in music and I was around for the disco era.
19. Hulahoops in trees. Not really something you guys did, but the fact that 4 hula hoops have been hanging in the trees surrounding the house for over ten years brings new meaning to the word “unconcerned”. How did they get up there? No idea. Apparently a strong throwing arm with the wind at your back. But please take them down. I feel like I’m surrounded by a rundown amusement park.
20. Clean the deadly bathroom mold. You guys are in college. Living it up, being young men and all that jazz, but this is a serious health issue. For me and for you. There is deadly mold growing in the bathroom. That happens when there is that much wood exposed to open water for the past 40 or so years. It is the reason you cough so much, and also the reason there is black stuff in the cracks that you see. It is not paint.
21. N64. Two points on this. One, even I know that N64’s are technologically obsolete. Secondly, there is absolutely no reason for being that angry over a loss in SuperSmash. Don’t throw the controllers anymore, or yell profanity. And James stop talking in that weird voice to Joe whenever you beat him. It creeps me out.
Now don’t get me wrong boys. I really do love you living here; makes me feel young again. And I am thankful for a lot you have done. The killing of mice, the time you scared that skunk out of the basement (how he got in there I still don’t know…) and the bright yellow surfboard hanging on the front porch which declares my name. John’s artfulness really came in handy there. Just treat me a bit more gently ok? It would be a lot better for both of us.
Sincerely,
The Willard House
P.S. There’s asbestos in the walls… sorry.
Boys, you know I have been around a long time; a long, long time. In fact, I’ve been in this same spot probably since your parents were kids. Sure, I’ve had a few facelifts over the years: you guys with the paint two summers ago, and when the landlord decided to go crazy and refinish the floors, but I’m basically the same house. And that’s why I’m finally speaking up. You guys are animals. I’m an old man, and you’re kicking the crap out of me. Therefore, I’ve put together a small list of grievances, in no particular order, of things that you have done over the past two years, which I would like to never take place again. Also, there are a few that I can deal with, just treat me a bit more gently when doing so.
1. Using the hallway as an archery range. It was bad enough last hunting season when Evan would go kill deer and then bleed them out and skin them in the driveway. Sure, it’s asphault, but how would you like me to pour deer blood down your arm? Not very much. So this year, I had a sneaking suspicion that the compound bow he brought back would bring bad tidings. And I was right. I don’t see one of you standing at the end of the hall way having arrows shot at you. And you know why? Because it’s not fun. You literally shot the arrow completely through the wall. And what if Jeremy had been in bed? You would have killed him, or at least injured him profusely. You’re idiots, don’t do that anymore.
2. The writing of cute little quotes on the wall. John, I know you’re all artistic and whatnot, but every single time you read something you find vaguely motivational, try to hold back from whipping out the paint marker and writing in all caps. I know tattoos are hip and all, but as stated, I’m an old man, and it’s just tacky. I do enjoy when visitors sign their name on the stairwell though in sharpie, it tickles a bit and makes me feel popular and whatnot.
3. Hygiene. This one should go without saying, as you’re all not four years old anymore, but really? James, your feet smell like rotting meat. Get some odor-eaters or something stat, or your shoes may disappear for good. And that’s just to start with you. I haven’t even brought up your gas and sweat. I’m surprised girls even look at you, let alone date you. I feel pity for her when she comes over, clean your room, do your laundry and wash your feet. Sam, you need to wash your hair more than once every two weeks. I know, I know, you don’t like how it fluffs up after you wash it, but I gurauntee you that your girlfriend will like it better when it doesn’t smell like greasy dog.
4. Leaving food out. Remember that time you left the salsa bowl on the counter for a month and a half? That’s not sanitary. You would eat dinner, with the old salsa just sitting there on the table, turning black and smelling. I know you could all smell it, and am sincerely amazed at the amount of effort you put into not cleaning; which brings me to the dishes. Seriously? What the hell. There is never a reason to have over forty cups lying around the house with varying amounts of water in them. This isn’t the movie Signs, Joe will never need to “Swing Away” and water-allergic aliens will never attack. I’m 80% sure.
5. Lighting random items on fire. I’m not sure what most of you know about chemistry, but Sam you’re a biology major, you should definitely know better. Plastic, photographs and other miscellaneous trash that you find does not need to be burned on my front porch. It singes the roof for one, and also all of your children will probably have a third arm from the plastic fumes you inhale while giggling.
6. Breaking glass. Evan, I know you love eating popcorn. And not the toss in the microwave kind either, you love eating the fresh kernels that you cook on the stove in oil, and then put your special popcorn salt on. And that’s cool my friend, real fresh. But there’s a clear and present danger every time you do. You are the definition of the term butter-fingers. As the number of glasses, bowls and plates that you have dropped and shattered on the ground grows swiftly, please take heed of my warning. Dry your hands. Don’t absentmindedly carry mason jars in your greasy paws.
7. Soccerball through the window. Sam, you are a soccer star. I know. You are the all time leading assist leader still at your alma mater. However, I am not a soccer star. I don’t have legs you see. So when kick the ball against the front of the house, don’t get all pissed when I “miss” the ball and it goes straight through your window. I am sorry about the glass shards which covered all of your clothes. My bad.
8. Fireball in the fireplace. I’ll admit, the fireplace is made for fires to be in. However, the purpose is to make the lodge warm and cozy during winter nights. The purpose is not to throw lighters as hard as possible into the flames and make them explode into a fireball that licks the ceilings and floors and almost singes off Jackson’s eyebrows. Dangerous and stupid. Oh, and change the batteries on the smoke detectors, because those obviously don’t work.
9. Climbing on the roof. I have a few issues with this. First of all, safety. If you’re gonna climb on the roof, you should buy a ladder. Your stingy selves decided to build one. That is idiotic. Secondly, my roof should have been replaced about 3 times at this point. It has not been replaced, because Mike Powell doesn’t really think it is necessary. So when you have a cookout to start off the year, and there are 40 people up on the roof throwing frizzbees and taking long-distance corn-hole shots, you’re playing with fire (not literally like the fireballs, but you get the point) The creaking you hear is not me enjoying myself. It’s groaning with the weight of lives in my hands.
10. Clean the chimney. It’s been years, and that’s the reason the house smells like burnt newspaper whenever you light it up. Also why the lodge fills with smoke. You guys are just too lazy to really care. Again, check the smoke detectors.
11. Couches everywhere. Do you need to have this many couches. Yeah, you have friends who visit and stay the night. No one needs this many couches. I think you probably have some you don’t even know about lying around. For example, the one in the back basement room. No one has entered there for about 3 months. That loveseat is a breeding couch for mice at this point.
12. Killing of mice. I applaud your effort in the war against mice (WAM). But there are much simpler ways of killing them. After you catch them on the sticky traps, don’t just launch them into the road, or stomp on them. Or cut them with a machete. I should’ve called PETA a long time ago, but you took out the house phone and keep your cells on you at all times. Except for Sam, he loses his in one of the 18 couches every 5 hours. But it’s that new iphone and I can’t figure out how to work it. Technology…
13. I miss the Willard street sign on the stairwell wall. I hope you learned your lesson about letting cops into the house. In this town, if you are in college you are always the culprit, whether you invited them in to investigate a robbery or not. I liked that sign covering the hole in the wall (from moving an unnecessary couch) and it pissed me off when that cop took it. He had no right to steal our stolen property. Well, maybe he did, but I can promise you that sign sat in his backseat for about a year before he just threw it away.
14. The amount of bikes locked to me. I understand 7. That number would correlate. But how in the world did 12 bikes end up in various places and states of disrepair around me? The beach cruiser is half buried in the backyard under the mini-ramp. The earth decided to reclaim that one. As is the Mongoose in the tree line separating me from the neighbors. I have watched the vines slowly choke the life out of it. The goose is no longer on the loose.
15. Repair my locks. You would think when you got robbed you would say to Mike, “Hey Mr. Powell, I know you thought we were joking before when we said that we don’t have keys to any doors in the house, but we were being serious. Could you replace the locks?” Instead, every night the front door hangs open and the side door is jammed shut as tight as you can, due to it being too large for the frame. I didn’t like when those hooligans robbed me, but I thought well maybe something would finally be done about the locks. It was not.
16. Bosom floods when it rains. Another thing to alert the landlord to. It’s funny that you call the back basement room the bosom, I agree. But when it’s filled with an inch deep of nasty water after it rains, it doesn’t feel good. It’s like Chinese water torture for me.
17. Joe and Sam’s makeshift soundproof wall. You two geniuses really went out of your way on this one. The basement is loud. Understandable. There’s no door to your room cause it’s at the bottom of the stairs, your decision. The fact that you ordered sound proof foam and attempted to design a makeshift entrance out of it? Unrealistic. I have heard James’ snores just as much as you guys have. Believe me, there is no material on earth that can block that roar from drilling into your ears.
18. Jackson’s Justin Bieber music in shower. He sounds like he is a 12 year old girl going through puberty. How you enjoy a song that says baby nigh a million times is foreign to me. So how bout when your dancing around singing with him, you turn it down a bit. I mean, geez. Even I have good taste in music and I was around for the disco era.
19. Hulahoops in trees. Not really something you guys did, but the fact that 4 hula hoops have been hanging in the trees surrounding the house for over ten years brings new meaning to the word “unconcerned”. How did they get up there? No idea. Apparently a strong throwing arm with the wind at your back. But please take them down. I feel like I’m surrounded by a rundown amusement park.
20. Clean the deadly bathroom mold. You guys are in college. Living it up, being young men and all that jazz, but this is a serious health issue. For me and for you. There is deadly mold growing in the bathroom. That happens when there is that much wood exposed to open water for the past 40 or so years. It is the reason you cough so much, and also the reason there is black stuff in the cracks that you see. It is not paint.
21. N64. Two points on this. One, even I know that N64’s are technologically obsolete. Secondly, there is absolutely no reason for being that angry over a loss in SuperSmash. Don’t throw the controllers anymore, or yell profanity. And James stop talking in that weird voice to Joe whenever you beat him. It creeps me out.
Now don’t get me wrong boys. I really do love you living here; makes me feel young again. And I am thankful for a lot you have done. The killing of mice, the time you scared that skunk out of the basement (how he got in there I still don’t know…) and the bright yellow surfboard hanging on the front porch which declares my name. John’s artfulness really came in handy there. Just treat me a bit more gently ok? It would be a lot better for both of us.
Sincerely,
The Willard House
P.S. There’s asbestos in the walls… sorry.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Music Monday (back from the dead) featuring Jimmy Fitch!
Jimmy Fitch
I know it has been quite a while since music Monday has existed… But here it is! This weeks featured artist is country music singer-songwriter, Jimmy Fitch. A few weekends ago, a bunch of friends from Chesapeake were in town to celebrate an engagement. The Friday night before the celebration, the Willard porch was bumping. At one point there was like 30 people gathered around our broken patio furniture sitting and laughing. We were all having a great time, and then, there came Jimmy Fitch. Jimmy showed up covered in mud and grinning from ear to ear. He politely introduced himself and explained that he lived across the street and wanted to introduce himself because he always sees us out on the porch. Somehow in conversation, Jimmy revealed to us that he was a country singer. Suddenly two guitars appeared and before anyone knew what was happening, Jimmy was singing away. Hours passed, and by 2am, there were three guitars and a mandolin being strummed on our porch. And to top it all off, Jimmy is sick at harmonica. We sang along to famous country songs, some of Jimmy’s own songs, and a whole slew of Young Life club songs. It was a beautiful thing. 20 grown men belting out Free Fallin’ at 2 in the morning is not at all commonplace. Thanks Jimmy, for an awesome night. The Willard House (or surfboard house as he called it) will certainly never forget it.
Check out Jimmy Fitch’s facebook band page (http://www.facebook.com/jimmyfitchmusic) It features some cover songs as well as originals. My favorite is one of Mr. Fitch’s own songs, entitled “On the Road.” It features some well-written lyrics, good ole country twang, and Jimmy ripping on the harmonica. Jimmy is a country music singer-songwriter with an incredible country music voice. I wouldn’t be surprised if we hear Jimmy on the radio some day. Also! Hopefully Jimmy will open up for Bison (http://www.facebook.com/Bisonfolk) at Hallowillard Hoedownween this year.
Speaking of which, its on October 28th this year, and everyone’s invited.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
ABP
I apologize for my absence from the blogging world for so long, school, work and young life are all in full swing, which means I am a very busy beaver. Such is life though, and that does not excuse me from not writing on the blog. My sincerest apologies.
Anyhow,I figured I'd let you know a bit about my job at Au Bon Pain, Virginia Tech's premier chain dining facility and coffee/pastry expert.
I work Monday, Wednesdays and Fridays from 6:30- 11:00 a.m. I am a stock boy. Or what I like to call the BigShow. I keep ABP running. Without me, that place would be in shambles. I stock the shelves, carry the half and half, and spend a lot of time in large, walk in freezers. Very dolly intensive. Personally, I think I was selected for this job due to my large muscles, which are so visible through even baggy clothing. Or, it could just be that they needed someone to help unload Soy Milk at 6:45 in the morning. I guess we'll never know.
I work with two pro-stockers. Ryan and Greg. Ryan is an 8th year at Virginia Tech. It's true, he decided to take the rare 3rd victory lap. In actuality, due to some academic difficulties, he had to leave school then come back and now works 5 a.m. to 2 p.m. full time, while he finishes out his degree in Ocean Engineering. He has an earring, and likes to put me in uncomfortable situations with fellow employees. He thinks it's very funny, and I sometimes let out a feeble giggle as well.
Greg is the other pro-stocker. About 52 years in age if I time things right, he graduated from Rutgers with a degree in film, and then moved around the U.S. working for different hotel chains at conferences. He was the guy in charge of setting up everything, doing interface and such stuff. But he got sick of moving around everywhere, and wanted to be closer to his mom, so now he's here.
There are some other interesting characters at ABP. Kevin is our baker. I found out today, he finished up his doctorate in Zoology last year, and his father is the head of The Humane Society. Like the large overarching society. But for now, Dr. Kevin is content to get up early and bake delicious breads, before he moves onto a career in zoology.
Duck is a 65 year old dude who helps make portions in the morning. He is really funny, and always tells me I need to be more irate with my job when unloading boxes. He then tells me to kick some boxes around, and waits patiently until I kick the side of a box. Then he says atta boy, I feel good about myself, and he goes outside to smoke a pipe on his break. That's correct, a pipe. Where he keeps it, or how he has time to smoke a pipe while working, are beyond me.
So that's a brief glance at AuBonPain. The heart and soul of Virginia Tech's dining. May your coffee always be hot, your sandwich always freshly made, and your mac and cheese always creamy.
<3's
James Harris III
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
A Day in the life of Evan Underwood
yip yip.
I've awoken in the woods. Again. When this first started happening five years ago, I was afraid I was some kind of werewolf. Then I realized that in actuality, my body loves being outside, even when sleeping. Since then, several nights a week my body tip toes off into the woods by itself, in direct contrast to my waking wishes. I've woken up in my back yard now more times than I can count. When back at Willard, my sleeping body takes me up the hill under the big tree by the Summit. Once, I somehow situated myself in with a herd of deer. They took me in as one of their own.
School's been in session for a few weeks now, and I've been adjusting to my new schedule. This summer, I was used to waking up around 5 a.m. to drink coffee and reflect on nature. The school year changes things however, and now I am able to sleep a little longer; I get up at 6 a.m. to do my usual bird watching and recording.
Instead of all 8 a.m. classes this year, none of my classes start till 11 or later, so after I get up at 6, I really don't know what to do with myself. I get some work done, go lay in my bed some, read, go off and be mysterious for a bit, then finally go to class.
I have class from 11- 7 everyday.
After class, I go home, lay in bed and crack open a nice cold coke. I sip on my sweet beverage in a pink SouthernTide Koozie (http://www.southerntide.com/products/Koozies.html) and listen to some of John Carr's music. I go out on the porch, whistling softly to myself an earthy tune, and indulge in good conversation with my house mates.
Then the fun starts. I whip out my brand-new, Diamond Dead-Eye Compound Bow. I've set up a make shift range behind the apartments, with my target a few feet in front of the fence separating us from SigEp. You may be thinking, "But Evan, what if you miss and one of the arrows flies and hurts someone in SigEp's boisterous backyard?" Well my answer is in two parts my friend, firstly I never miss. Secondly, when I have shot over the target, on purpose, and then lost my arrow, on purpose, in the backyard of SigEp; I have never heard any complaints from them, nor hurt anyone. Plus, since Sam won't let me shoot towards his car anymore, where am I supposed to practice?
I disappear for a few hours now, and it is midnight. I make my way into the house, unbeknownst, and slip under my covers. I set my alarm for 6 a.m. and dream of finches and other native birds of the Appalachia. Beautiful.
Monday, August 22, 2011
A Day in the life of Sam Bowman
Ahhhh. Coffee. Some say it's tough to warm my heart. But that is because they've never been around me at 7:15 a.m. M-F. A nice warm cup to get me nice and ready for the commute to Roanoke. This Summer I've been working for a research lab. Studying the Blackfan Virus. Highly Dangerous. Just like me. I leave the house and go to campus to get on the commuter bus that drives out to Roanoke daily. Saves me gas, and I get to watch an episode of Dexter. I finish up Season 3, just as the bus pulls into my stop. I walk into the building, put on my lab coat, and quickly get to work. Measuring, diluting, spinning, weighing, experimenting. You name it, and I probably do it around this place. Some call me a scientist. I call me a magician. I can do things with beakers you can't even imagine.
I get home from work around four and go read The Hunger Games on the front porch of the Willard Home. I enjoy these books immensely. What is in District 13?
After an hour of that it's time to fire up the grill. I take out some fresh meat, still bloody from where I shot and killed it, and cook it. Then I eat it. Without a fork. Cause I'm a man.
After dinner I hang with Norty and Kyle a bit. Joe's studying or lifting weights, and who knows where Jason is. But I content myself with lively conversation with my two buds. Kyle is from Texas. He works with grass. Norton is an engineer. He works with plastics. They're his specialty.
I get on the phone for a bit with Eliza. She talks to me, saying that she's pissed James hasn't written a blog about me, as I am easily the most entertaining and easiest person in the house to write about. I calm her down from her fury and tell her that I am probably the hardest to write about, A. Because I have no really weird qualities besides not showering for James to parody, and B. because although James would love to just fill the entire day of my life with pun references, he's not very good with them. I guess he's just not very punny.
I lay down in my basement/lair bed and curl up under an old, soft quilt I stole from one of my roommmates. I ponder things aloud for a bit with Joe, our nightly pillow talk. Then as my eyelids begin to close, I think of one more pun to say. I try to open my mouth to say it, but dreams of science and manliness whisk it away....
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