nothing is THIS adorable...

... everyone(thing) needs a little love.

Even the ruffians, the hooligans, the downstairs neighbors who slave away in a thankless low-paying sandwich shop job whose only joy after closing shop is blasting top-40 hits or the latest M.I.A. beat until the ceiling caves because you know, life just sucks sometimes and we take our little joys when we can. While wearing tie-dye.




and speaking of little joys, the photo of these little cherubs was emailed to me by a student worker with the title, "To Brighten Your Day." Hopefully life looks rosier now.

serenity now!

It amazes me how silence can sort of ring in your ears, distracting you in a way that makes you realize "maybe the pounding bass below WAS music to my ears." After our few interactions with the noisy closers of the sandwich shop downstairs (via landlord because let's face it, some of us just don't thrive on confrontation), the squalor below has ceased. Regardless, I am now faced with ......nothing. No overzealous stereo system below, no slamming doors, no cigarette smoke breaks to mar the fresh smells of our little apartment. I enjoy the serenity. It also makes me restless in a way that could also be contributed to the four coffees and two Diet Cokes I drank today (staff retreats are HELL on my oral fixation with beverages).

A siren wailed loudly past the parking lot. I guess that breaks it up a little.

The irony about this extremely scattered post is that as I was about to wrap up some completely useless thoughts on ...well, nothing... the music below flared up as if from Hell itself. Then, a little quieter. Now, it's respectful, yet I still hear strains of Marvin Gaye's own "What's Going On." This is serendipitous.

Ok, scratch that... wait, are they seriously blasting old school DESTINY'S CHILD? Who ARE these people? ...now, hold on, they've switched it back to some song I remember from the movie "How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days." CRAZIES. I have CRAZY neighbors.

Time to bring the rage. xoxo.

Adventures on the Bridge

Not much has happened since we last posted. The kids have been mysteriously absent. There have been a few interesting things to note, however:

1. I came home one day last week and saw a solitary silver flip flop in the walkway between buildings. Later that evening there were two of them. The next morning, after a rainstorm and who knows what else, they were still there. My friend contemplated wearing them out to dinner since he forgot to bring other shoes besides his dress boots. However, the dress boots won out.

2. When home sick from work on Monday, I woke up from a nap to see a girl curled up asleep on the sidewalk. Not in a nook, or on a doorstep, but right in the middle of the sidewalk. She snoozed for a while and then woke up when I went downstairs and outside to run an errand. Next time I can't fall asleep in my bed I'm gonna try the hard concrete instead.

3. Last night while sitting on our couch overlooking the Cannon, I saw a 4 person golf car zip by the Cow and turn onto the bridge. It went all the way across and looked pretty sweet.

4. Here is the most exciting update: Last night another friend, who may at times be a guest blogger, and I were walking across the bridge headed for a late dinner at HoBros. A little punk dressed in black riding a too small bike was up ahead of us on the bridge. Next thing we know, another rider, clothed pretty much the same, whizzes past my friend, clipping him on the elbow and creating quite a scare. What happened to "on your right?" or "Excuse me?" PUNKS. Watch your back on the Cannon River bridge.

Just an addendum...

I have to take some credit for something, to add onto Miriam's post from earlier: it was actually me who came up with "Shundies" ca. last summer (2008) during my employment at Blue Monday. To the left is the ensemble I saw commonly (though think a lower-cut, tighter top piece). Let's just say there was TOO. MUCH. INFORMATION to be shown around young children.

PS. To purchase shundies for yourself, see soffe.com.

High Times and Gang Signs

First of all, I just want to say, "f***in' right, yeah doggy." This blog is going to be awesome.

My encounters with the youth of Northfield have been spotty, but I like to think of myself as friends with one of the student leaders of the Key (I use the term friend loosely), and I have a great deal of respect for the youth programming that goes on in Northfield and the high schoolers who are involved in making Northfield a better place for youth. So, dear readers (I use the term readers loosely....), know that we do in fact love and respect these kids and mean no harm.

That being said, I'm hoping they in turn mean no harm to us, as Mer and I found a gang symbol sharpied outside our apartment door the other day--but I'm pretty sure it wasn't directed toward us, as they see our door as an inconvenient metal fixture on their hang-out stoop (our doorstep). I'll add a pic soon, but the symbol is a) on the sidewalk and b) way too white/hippie/stoner/artistic to be anything too h-core.

Secondly: high times. One of the staples of our door stoop crowd, let's call her Shundies (shorts that are so short they look like underwear=shundies, copyright Kevin Rusk 2009), just discovered the magazine High Times. If you're not familiar with this stonermag, check out the link. Apparently, there were "like all these sweet pictures, and they totally like show you how to roll a spliff and shit." Just to clarify your mental picture of Shundies, she's less of the blonde cheerleader shundie type and more of the unshowered/unbrushed hair and shundies coupled with an Urban Outfitters hippie shirt (wait, does she think that shirt is a dress? Oh no those are shorts) type.

Can't wait to learn some more swears and all the new terms for marijuana!

They were makin' out

Maggie's post made me laugh. Spot on. This is going to be fun.

Now, let's take it back to the beginning. On the day we signed our lease--some 6 weeks ago, Mags and I toured the apartment with our dear landlord, Gene. After peeking into every nook and cranny from our bowling lane length entryway (we've considered holding everything from a massive game of beer pong to a bocce ball tournament in this space) and our pantry large enough to be a guest room, we paused by the sliding patio door. The Cannon was calm and relaxing, the sun shining, and birds chirping. Mags and I were pretty taken with our patio, even though it is only big enough for a dollhouse-sized grill.

But before we swooned too much, Gene gave us a warning: "You'll see those kids hanging out here all the time, ridin' their skateboards and smokin' and hangin' out. There's a sign down there at the dumpster that says "NO loitering or skateboarding," but you let me know if that security light goes out and we'll fix it. Those kids just sit on the steps down there and gave a good scare to the last tenant when she took out her trash. Oh, and the other day there was a couple, a guy and girl out on the bridge just makin' out and you could tell he was forcin' it...she wasn't into it. They were just makin' out. Probably no more than 14 or 15."

We laughed and thought, aw, those kids. At first they really kind of ticked me off...now they kind of intrigue me. They have no idea who can see them from the apartment above or who is listening when they sling racial slurs and spout four letter words out on the sidewalk in hopes of looking a little older than 13. We get the opportunity to observe their lives on the riverfront uncensored and uncut.

My favorite interaction with the kiddos happened a few weeks ago. Returning home after a beer at the Cow with another townie I saw a cluster of 4 youth chillin' on the steps of Erbs and Gerbs. Kid 1 to Kid 2: "Dude. What's wrong with you? Are you high?

And so begins our social observation....

"hey shawty, you lookin' good." (welcome to our blog!)

What we overhear is sometimes funny, sometimes pathetic, sometimes sad, but adds flavor to our lives above the Cannon. Since our windows face out, it's amazing what we take in. Aside from the savory children, we can see couples strolling across the bridge, children fishing, and sounds of music from the square that add to the unique blend in our little town.

Our downstairs neighbors add the aural flavor. On a daily basis, we are serenaded by the sweet sounds of our young neighbors frolicking on the sidewalks below. No more than 14 years of age (and that's old by their standards), these little sweeties like to practice their swears and talk about sex and booze as if they've been at it their whole lives. Ahhh, to be young again. I mean, the creativity at that age. Mer and I just heard "F***in' right, ya doggy" and the title of this post, "HEY SHAWTY, YOU LOOKIN' GOOD" which probably translates to something pretty complimentary for the assumedly young lady this gentleman is courting.

Part rant, part observation, part devotions, we'll post random things we hear/observe and see what sense we can make of it all.