I apologize for the delayed posts the past couple days, but I'm moving out of my parents' house and into an apartment with my friend Becca in a nearby town - woohoo! It's been far too long for me, and it almost feels like escaping prison. It's almost hard for me to imagine life out on my own again, but yet, I'm excited to give it a try. Becca and I have known each other since seventh grade, and we're not dating each other, so I don't think it'll be awkward at all.
Anyway, I also don't really have any pictures yet. I don't have a proper camera, and I always forget that my cell phone has one, so I haven't snapped any photos. Since I know y'all are probably naturally curious, the above picture is the Google Maps satellite image of the new crib. If you want to get super nosy, you can look it up yourself - 657 Dry Bridge Road, North Kingstown. (Feel free to mail me money or delicious cakes and cookies as well. No poison or stalking though.) We have a super-huge backyard, which is actually a huge collection of local farms, so that's nice. The parking situation is less than ideal, but still, there should be plenty of room for BBQs and other fun stuff.
Between work and frantically packing and trying to move out by Saturday, I have tried to sneak in some basketball. However, this is a surprising pain in the ass because the court closest to me, Crandall Field in Ashaway / Hopkinton, is constantly stalked by a roving gang of kids on bicycles.
They aren't as bad as The Warriors or anything, but the park has developed a reputation as a place for bikers and skaters to go. As a result, nobody plays hoops there anymore. The town finally managed to get rid of the black spray paint that said "Die kikes!", but they don't do much in terms of keeping the bikers off the court. They constantly drag a picnic table and a nearby trash barrel on to the court and then try to jump over them. (Note: This small bit of vandalism and graffiti is odd for the field, which is otherwise inhabited by a nice, big playground and friendly families.)
So to you punk kid cyclists there, Old Man Greenwell shakes his fist at you. Hopefully, there are less of you in North Kingstown.
