The (Temporary) Death of Independence.

Two days ago, I made my way home from youth studies around two by means of the Minneapolis bus system. Luckily for me, the bus system is fairly simple between the University and my house. Basically, I hop on the 2 outside of the Union, and ride that to the end of the line, then walk home a half mile. Unfortunately it still does take about a half hour to get home.

Well I came to the end of the line, and on my walk home, I realized that my keys were missing. Gone from any pockets I could possibly think of. And when I say I lost my keys, I mean all of my keys: car keys, house keys, keys to my bike lock, keys to someone else's bike lock, and keys for which I've forgotten the use.

Being the dumb oaf that I am, I decided to just chance it and continue the walk home, thinking maybe someone would be around to let me in.

NOPE.

And so there I was, alternating between standing on my doorstep, circling my house, and peering in through my windows hoping to find a way in. Now, even though it's only November, Minnesota still manages to get a little chilly. There was snow covering the ground, and the temperature was a crisp thirty degrees. Although in the spring time thirty degrees seems like a tropical relief from the Minnesota winter, knowing that I was stuck outside for a good couple hours, thirty degrees to me looked a little bit like this:

And so I stood on my stoop, calling people up, seeking refuge for the few hours before my room mate, Tessa, would get home with a key. I was fortunate enough, however, to be able to watch the entire course of action taken after a car accident that happened right across the street, including the arrest of a middle-aged man.

Finally my good friend Juliana came through for me, and I wandered back to the bus and to the warmth of her apartment until Tessa was able to pick me up.

The next day after searching for far too long after chemistry lecture for my keys, I finally gave in and called up my father, who was kind enough to drive all the way up to Minneapolis from Northfield to deliver spare car keys, and in the process take a look at my car to help figure out what was wrong with it.

Side note: My father rocks.

Now having access to my car, I drove to the Home Depot just down the road from my house, accompanied by Tessa's keys, of which I had some new copies made.
Now I've replenished my key supply for those which I need basically every day, and the rest can wait.

But what did I LEARN from all of this? After all, if I don't learn something from an experience, what's the point in remembering it at all?
I learned this: I absolutely despise relying on others for things that I should be able to do myself (i.e. Get into my own freaking HOUSE). It's not that I don't appreciate others doing things to help me out, but I just feel awful asking for the help. Not being able to do basic tasks on my own is the death of my independence. I'm entirely grateful for Juli lending me a place to sit around for a few hours, and Tessa for letting me borrow her keys to make copies, and my father for driving an hour out of his way just to bring me a spare car key, but it would have been much easier for me to simply be competent enough to not misplace my keys in the first place.

I also learned that no matter what petty little incidents come about, I've got some people to back me up, which is a good feeling to have.

Welcome to Me.

I suppose it's about time to get this thing up and running, isn't it?

Before I start anything, though, I have to let you know this; I can't make any promises as far as how often I will be posting, or the content of each individual post. This blog will just be run like a really low-key lottery, in which you may never win, or know what you're winning! I'll do what I can to promise no less than one post per... year.

Sound good? Good.

Okay. Now. Me. Who am I? What do I do? And so on and so forth.

Let me start by saying that this first blog comes to you from my living room in Northeast Minneapolis. My name is Jake, and I'm a freshman at the University of Minnesota.

That's a good start, right?

I was born and raised in Northfield, Minnesota, a town of about 20,000 people. Many of those people are students, as Northfield is home to St. Olaf and Carleton College.

Because of St. Olaf's music program, it seems the whole town is somewhat musically talented, most likely due to the diffusion of music through the town, or something of the sort. I've got about four years of self-taught, minimalistic guitar under my belt, and I have been a choir-boy for ages.

CHOIR.
It just so happens that singing is a big part of my life, be it on my walk to the bus stop, around campus, while working, or in a formal group. I joined choir in 6th grade, and remained in it through my senior year of high school (I had to quit this year because of a scheduling issue, but I plan to audition again for Basses Wild next year at the U). I was a bass by 7th grade. Henceforth, I love to sing low. Well, that, and I just sound god-awful while singing high.
I always sound like a total prick when saying this, but I'm so glad I got to be in Northfield High School's concert choir, because we were fantastic, mistaken by listeners for St. Olaf's choir a few times even! If you want to get a little taste of them (us), check out our recording of Earth Song, by Frank Ticheli on youtube from our performance at Boe Chapel at St. Olaf. That was my junior year, and it was fantastic.

~Side note: When I say I joined choir in 6th grade, I have to let you know that I joined because my best friend was in choir, and informed me that the girl I had a 6th-grade crush on was also in choir. Man, I was motivated.


WORK.
I said that I quit choir this year because of a scheduling issue. That issue was my job. I work at the MSP international airport every single weekend. On Fridays and Saturdays, I work from 5:15pm to 10:15pm, and on Sundays I work from 5:15pm to 11:15pm.
What do I do there? Basically, I haul a whole bunch of soda and juice and pretzels/peanuts/cookies up to the airplanes after they land and before they take off. I bring you your food. It's a fantastic job. Even though the hours take up most of my weekend-college-fun time, they're by no means unreasonable. The work itself is really quite easy. It requires some heavy lifting, and a bit of rushing and stress, but overall, it's just fine. On top of that, the people that I work with are great. Every night, the break room has stories and conversation and awesome people everywhere.
Oh, and did I mention that I fly for FREE? Yeah, nice perk, right? Unfortunately I haven't been able to take too much advantage of it yet because of school. I've only gone to Chicago and Portland so far, but come winter break, I swear I will be in the air more than on the ground.

But that's enough about me, tell me about yourself.