Because my new social life is in it's fledgling stages (read: non-existent), I've been scoping out potential friends. Truth is, the prospects are grim. (Where are all the fun college grads hiding?) And I'm 90% sure my neighbor is a real life hooker. There's really no other excuse for a full body, black leather catsuit, right? The text from my mom after I broke the news... "In your apartment? Does she have short, dark hair? Boob job? Dad thinks he may have seen her."
In a nutshell: I've spent 11 hours watching college football. Two of those (non-consecutively) on a treadmill... I figure if I'm going to watch TV, I might as well burn calories while doing so. Heck, on a positive note, if I don't make friends quickly, I could potentially lose like 10 lbs.
Let's just gloss over the part where a) I didn't get the Longhorn game on TV -- we're not in Big 12 country anymore, Toto -- and b) the aforementioned Longhorns got their burnt orange behinds spanked by a subpar team who was just SHUT OUT by Stanford at home. Neither were high points.
And bless Kyle's heart... in between begging him to come visit (like now!!) I've texted and called the guy more in one day than I usually do in seven. (I'm BORED, remember?) His response: "You need a puppy." So Dad, when I show up with a furry faced bundle of joy, remember one thing -- it was Kyle's idea.
All in all, I adore my new place in my new city. What I don't adore is that it's 1,109 miles away from everyone that I love. But to be terribly cliche, nothing worth doing ever comes easy...