Like most people, I began the day by being jolted awake at 9 A.M. by the rudimentary buzz of my cell phone alarm clock. "Blast!" I thought to myself as I stretched myself out on the tan and blue sheets of my bed (which isn't actually mine; I'm just a lowly sub-letter [who still needs to pay the utility bill, OOPS!]). I considered skipping class today because I had a horrendous headache, which was obviously caused by a hangover since I drank last night because I drink every night since I'm a borderline-alcoholic (otherwise known as a "college student"). That last sentence was not true, sans for the portion about the headache. I really did have a headache that felt similar to lighting bolts constantly flashing inside my head. I WAS NOT HUNGOVER (you can stop worrying now, Mom). (Unrelated, I feel like I'm using a lot of parenthetical asides. Oh, well. Story of my overly-verbose-English-major life). Anyway, after contemplating drilling something into my temples to get rid of the pain, I crawled out of bed, hobbled over to the kitchen in a blinded fog, took two Aleve, and hoped for clear-headedness by the time I made it to class. Turning around and past the corner of my apartment's little hallway, I made it to the bathroom. I didn't throw up! Now do you believe me when I say I wasn't hungover? I hope so. So, standing there in the bathroom in just my boxer briefs, I flashed my pearly whites at myself in the mirror. Damn, I look good! The MV Explorer won't know whats hit it when I board! But really. To keep those teeth lookin' so fresh, so clean (thanks OutKast), I had to brush. Two minutes of vigorous up and down and side to side movements later, I spat and smiled again. SWOON! Apparently, all of this took longer than I thought, so when I looked at the clock, it was 9:26 A.M. Shit! Class is in four minutes and I'm still in just my underwear! Now, I knew the four girls in my class certainly wouldn't mind if I showed up in (almost) the buff, but they're in high school, and 16/17-year old girls aren't really my steez, so I used my better judgment and threw on some clothes. Out the door at 9:27, I scurried up Cache La Poudre St towards Pikes Peak in a failed attempt to make it to Armstrong for class by 9:30. Didn't happen. Instead, I sauntered into class, as cool and collected as I possibly could, at a solid 9:36. My professor didn't seem to care, so I didn't either. The next two and a half hours was class, so I fed my SAS-addiction further by researching some more about my ports of call...I mean, I was attentive and made excellent points about the dualities found in Peter Pan, as well as the nature of the character of Wendy in relation to the men in the story. Those high school chicks sure wish I showed up naked at this point. "Smart AND sexy AND studying in college? SAM IS PERFECT!" were on their minds during class today, I'm sure, but not really; I just wanted to use some cool alliteration.
After class let up at Noon, I quickly walked up Tejon St to Central Services to see if I had any mail. Nothing! No letters, no packages, no fan mail, not even a love note. Shucks. Dejected, I walked to the Library to learn how to do a screen capture on a computer from a film for my paper that I have to write for tomorrow. 0 words down, 1,000 to go. Turns out, I already knew how since it's the same as it is on my laptop. Winning! Realizing I had no reason to be there anymore, I blazed out of the Library. Lately, I've been feeling pretty antsy about my visas and passport. I sent them a while ago, shouldn't Pinnacle Travel Document Services be done processing them? I called them to see what was up. A receptionist picked up, but failed to connect me to the proper person. Annoyed, I walked home to my apartment. I was wearing a tank top, so the sun beat down on my pasty white shoulders, meaning I'll hopefully have some kind of tan soon. Or I'll probably end up looking like a raw lobster. Sup, Skin Cancer!?
I made it to my door and noticed a little slip of paper hanging on the side. It was from FedEx. Somebody came by with a package for me while my roommates and I were out this morning. At first, I wondered what somebody might have sent to me. A letter? A package? Fan mail? A love note? I began calling some friends with the request of driving me to the FedEx location on the slip, a ten minute drive up by Garden of the Gods. After a few failed attempts, I finally got in touch with the one, the only, Mr. Zachary Luna. I explained my plight to Zach and inquired about a ride, to which he obliged. How kind of him! He picked me up a little while later, and the two of us set off on an adventure in the big bad world of non-CC Bubble/Downtown Colorado Springs. WE WERE ATTACKED BY FOCUS ON THE FAMILY! AHHHH! Okay, not true. The drive was really short, actually, but biking there would've probably ended with me in the hospital with several broken bones. Upon arrival, Zach and I meandered inside. I showed my shiny new Colorado drivers license, signed a form, and waited for the mystery package to be brought to me. When the nice lady brought it out, I noticed the label in the corner. It read "Pinnacle Travel Document Services" and came from a Washington, D.C. address. This could only mean one thing: MY VISAS FOR GHANA, INDIA, AND CHINA, AND MY PASSPORT HAD ARRIVED!!!!!!!! The clerk must've noticed it came from a travel service, so she asked if I was going anywhere fun. I humbly responded "Everywhere. Canada, Morocco, Ghana, South Africa, Mauritius, India, Malaysia, Vietnam, China, Japan, Hawai'i, Costa Rica, the Panama Canal, Cuba, and Florida." She was impressed. Zach and I left the store, and as soon as the automatic doors shut behind me, I let out an uninhibited scream of pure joy and excitement. I tore open the package and took out my passport, now filled with the visas of Ghana, India, and China, and held it tightly in my hand for the entire trip home. I returned home feeling victorious, but then I remembered something: I still have 1,000 words to write by tomorrow. Damn.
One month until the adventure officially begins!
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| There's a picture of and signature from 16-year old Sam. Things have improved since. |
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