My college radio station had both of their albums tucked away. I wish I knew that we had them when I showed Ty around.
(Source: Flickr / oclaire)
The tale of the Trash Room (disclaimer: its a pretty boring story)
Ever since I moved into my dorm this year, I was never really knew how to dispose of the trash in my room. And since I’ve admittedly been super anti-social this year, I never managed to ask anyone what I was supposed to do. I’ve spent an entire academic year throwing all my garbage away in the bathroom or lounge trash cans.
It wasn’t until today that I learned that my building has designated “trash rooms” on every floor. So I took a little adventure in sight of finding this mythical realm of rubbish disposal.
(In my defense, the building that I lived in last year had a huuuge line of large trash cans in the lobby that were impossible to miss. So I wasn’t ready to search for some tiny-ass room tucked away in some dark corner.)
But all I had to do was walk down the hall, hang a left and BOOM, there was a door with a big fuckin “TRASH ROOM” sign on it. (I never had a reason to venture about my hall before, which is why I never found it).
So here I am, literally the weekend before finals week, just now learning of the damn trash room. I know this isn’t a big deal and that none of you care whatsoever, but I feel like a total idiot for not knowing how to talk to people in order to make my life easier.
If you actually managed to read all of this, I highly commend you and your ability to sit through such a lame story. You must have an iron will.