Things, Odds, & Ends

So, I wrote this note the night I got home from Des Moines, after enjoying my friend Liz's wedding and the ever-thrilling West Point bar scene. Suffice it to say, I was not sober. I apparently did not succeed in publishing it after I wrote it, which is probably good because waking to find that I wrote and published an entire blog that I didn't remember creating might have embarassed me. But I just read it and decided it might be important to publish. If you require proof of my inebriation, I would like you to know that there is absolutely nothing wrong with my parents' space bar. Read on:
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It is approximately 2 a.m., I've had a crazy 72-ish hours, and the best way I could serve the general populus is by rendering myself unconscious. Unlucky for you, I'm just crazy enough to feel like writing. Even though my parents apparently have a janky, barely functioning space bar.

First things first, Things:

Yesterday, I moved out of my lovely apartment on Des Moines' finest street, Brattleboro Ave. 2920. It was a lovely place to spend year 4 at Drake, and I enjoyed 67% of my time there. My landlord was pretty chill, as far as slum lords go. Unfortunately yesterday I proved myself less than chill, as far as tenants go. But that's a story for the "Odds" chapter.

As far as Things go, I would like to let everyone know that:

a) The YWCA (7th and Grand) has a "Dress for Success" closet. I donated a box of travel-sized shaving cream, which now resides in said closet. If you are of the professional variety and have apparel to dispose of, I suggest taking it there, where ladies who really need jobs will be able to utilize your threads to score a respectable job.

b) The Animal Rescue League takes couch cushions. If you've given up on your pile of dust, covers, and dirty hand-me-down pillows, take them to the ARL. The animals love you.

Awkwardly, Odds:

I lied to our landlord about the couch on the dumpster belonging to us. I will claim that the devil made me do it. Although, actually, it was my mother. I guess I was worried that he would make me take it out or pay a bunch of money or something, but I doubt that would have happened (apparently it only costs $5 to have furniture picked up from the curb). I was uncomfortable enough, though, to call him in the morning and tell him the truth. He thought it was honorable.

And, finally, Ends:

I really grew to think of Des Moines as my second home over the past 4 years, and it was impossibly difficult to leave the city and all of my friends who remain. As I bawled and told Nicole I didn't actually want to go to China anymore, she said, "Whitney, you will rock China. I wouldn't ordinarily tell a person that they would rock something as large as China, but it's you, and you will." While I don't know how true this is, I do appreciate the sentiment.

The Nadas wrote this song about their beloved DSM. I offer it to you all as a farewell:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tj3W7rBOq10