of a sofa and things

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Despite protestations from friends, I got the one that matched our dining room chairs.

I need to get back in the habit of posting more often.

So, I bought my first adult couch. It makes everything seem so weird now. I mean, we’ve had furniture before, but this makes it feel real. A friend donated our dining table and we bought chairs on a whim one day. The TV was a Christmas gift. Replacing the mattress didn’t feel like a milestone. But when the delivery men struggled to put this thing through my oddly shaped foyer, I said to myself, “Holy crap, I’m an adult.”

And then I inadvertently had caffeine that night and planned out all the other furniture I want to get.

It goes without saying that we are not moving out of this apartment anytime soon.

Anyway, we then had a staycation of sorts.

It wasn’t our intent. I need to burn 10 vacation days, and for some reason, we tried to plan out our vacation dates through texts and screwed up a little. I had plans to take my nephew on a college tour that Saturday and Renée thought she had an event to attend on Sunday. Instead, both things were canceled.

We got bored.

We drove to Washington, D.C.

The only thing we did there was let Missy out to pee on the National Mall.

The following day, we went to Winchester because, like me, Renée has a goal of seeing all of the regions of Virginia. I’ve been to 36 of the 38 current ones, and I’ll hit 37 next month. I’ll end this one day with Norton.

I’ll hit Covington because I intend on taking a road trip to Kansas to see my best friends, Mandy and Bill. Bill and Mandy’s husband, Mike, are stationed there, so I’m killing two birds with one stone. I’ve promised to visit both for years and never got around to it.

At the least, one of my fraternity brothers is going with me. I’m hoping for two. It’ll be Voyage XX, my 20th blog-worthy trip. I’ll hit 28 states. I’ll see the entire length of Interstate 64. I’ve been wanting to do that nearly my entire life.

I need to get around to getting my oil changed, brakes checked and making certain I won’t have a mechanical surprise in an exurb of Evansville, Illinois.

BUT,

Before we get to that, I’m seeing Death Cab for Cutie live tomorrow. I won’t wax poetic about it again.

ALSO,

I am officiating a wedding on Saturday. A friend’s officiant was unable to officiate, so I petitioned the courts one more time so I could do my second. I have about 1½ pages of things to say, because I am a good friend. I wind up editing it every time I look at it because it’s what I do. And because I’m a good friend.

A good friend who is coming to grips that, at some point he became an adult.

so long, sofa

So, I discovered that there’s a nearly six-minute version of the revamped Bob Newhart Show theme song, and it has been giving me life this week.

Especially in light of a death in my household.

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October 2015-October 2018

Our living room never grew up.

The living room at my first apartment in Richmond was a little tight, so a real couch would have been a bit much. Also, there was the whole question of getting it into the apartment.

Since I didn’t want to bother my friends with the whole “can you help me move my couch?” thing (again), we snagged this futon from Walmart one October night in 2015. It was comfy and had no real problems, so we never considered upgrading.

Well, once we got more space, I wanted an armchair, a new TV and a proper stand for it all, but there’s nothing truly wrong with what we have, so I never got around to it.

Well, now there’s something majorly wrong with the couch.

It was one of those things that you buy with the understanding that it’s going to fall apart in the stupidest way in a few years. I half-seriously said we had two moves before it broke.

We made it to two.

When I put it back together in March, I discovered that I was a little overzealous when I put it back together in the 2016 move, so the plywood that the screw went into came out with it when I disassembled it for the most recent move. Eventually, a brick partially supported the middle section.

And then some springs gave way on the left side.

And, tonight, total failure.

The two middle supports were the only things keeping the couch in one piece. The rear one failed, and I don’t have a second brick to prop it up. Additionally, it really needs more than two bricks to salvage it. So it shan’t be.

In the next 72 hours or so, I’m buying my first grownup couch (never mind the living room set I was given in 2006). I’m a little excited.

Except for the whole getting the couch into the apartment thing.

 

 

august

So, I didn’t write about what happened in August because too much happened in August, and I didn’t have time to catch my breath. I’m not even going to properly caption all the photos.

So, I left my old job and started my new one. I had to hit the ground running, and it’s been incredibly hectic, but I finally feel like my pay is equivalent to the amount of work I’m putting in, so it’s been great. I think things will work out very well.

Anyway, my first week culminated on the anniversary of Aug. 12 in Charlottesville.

Nothing truly violent happened this time around, but now there is an argument about how the police response was disproportionate  to compensate for the approach last year.

All I will say is that, from these pictures, I obviously was out there on the weekend because 1) it’s kinda my job and 2) I refuse to be afraid.

Anyway, while I was still trying to figure out things like where the bathrooms are, another week of work went down into the books, we set up some things, like having radio spots and then I took a trip with by brother Butler to the Danville area. We went to an event at Virginia International Raceway, but we got distracted by the AAF Tank Museum.

Butler works near a Lamborghini office, so we got VIP access. It was one of the most awesome things I’ve ever done in my entire life.

After this, I felt like I was kinda getting the swing of things at work. We had a lot of breaking news, though (as a matter of fact, I need to do real work either later today or all day tomorrow — and I definitely have to do something tonight), but it’s been great to mostly have my weekends back again and not have the pressures of daily deadlines constantly hanging over my head. I mean, I have deadlines, but now the idea is to get the best and most accurate story out instead of the first. This has taken a great load of stress off me over the weekends and allows me to do things like go to my mom’s house, fire up the grill and play with my dog in her backyard.

And now, here we are: Labor Day weekend. August feels like it went by in the blink of an eye. I’m excited about getting more settled in my role at my new journalism job, having a better work-life balance and feeling more like a member of the community.

Friday night, I was on the Downtown Mall. There has been so much strife and unrest in our country over the past few years, but seeing it full of life and hosting a rally for the University of Virginia the night before its drubbing of the University of Richmond reminded me of what could be. Of what we hope will be.

moving in

I would show pictures of my new desk, but there’s a banner emblazoned with our name on one side of my desk and the sign on the glass behind my desk casts a shadow on my desk. Even without the photos, you’ll be able to figure out where I work within five seconds of searching on Google, but I want you to earn it.

And, obviously, my long-running blog (14 years!) is not affiliated with my job.

Anyway, I have nearly two full weeks of work left at my old newsroom. I went to my new place yesterday, where I got some questions answered and had some discussion of short- and long-range plans.

Additionally, I got my parking pass and my key.

I packed up most of my desk on Saturday because I didn’t want to do it with a lot of people about and I’d failed to realize it was my penultimate Saturday shift. For the longest time, I only had one or two personal effects on my desk. As I got older, I realized that it was kinda weird that I didn’t have pictures or other pieces of flair on my desk. Especially since there was a stretch when the only trinket on my desk was a mug with a photo of a former mayor of Hopewell on it.

She has a rose in her teeth.

Long story.

Today, I put my few trinkets on my new desk. Only my coffee mug and cell charger are at my old desk. When I finished, I sat alone there for a few minutes and let it all sink in.

It’s almost time for a new adventure.

hi, everybody!

So, I disappeared for most of this month.

I meant to write about visiting cousins in North Carolina for the Fourth, but then I didn’t.

I’ve just been busy with getting set up at my new job, winding down my current one and trying to work out some other stuff because this has been a hectic first half of the year.

Like, hectic to the point where I want to fast forward to October.

Monday marks a big preliminary day at my new job and kicks off the final two weeks at my current one. I had to draft a biography for my official introduction, and I need a portrait shot for the day I start.

I think I’m about to become a minor public figure (again).

I mean, I’ll most likely be able to go to the grocery store without being approached by everyone, but people are going to look for me on Google. They’re going to find my two Twitter accounts. They’re going to find their way here.

I need to prepare myself to being the one people call and being a public face and all of that stuff again. I haven’t had to do that since 2011.

I’m not afraid of it, but it’s about to be all me again. I’m glad I have some time to let this all sink in. Luckily, I have a better idea of what I’m doing this time around because the stakes are higher.

No pressure.

let’s try a new change

For the first time since 2008 (and that technically doesn’t count), I have taking a new position in the same general area as the place I’m leaving. My commute will go to about one song to between one and three.

I’m working for another media outlet. It’s not a direct competitor, so it’s not a move based in Daniel Plainviewesque “I told you what I was going to do” like when I jumped from Petersburg to Hopewell.

I’ve spent six years with this company, nearly all of it with this paper. That is half of my career. I had fully intended to go the distance, but there is some uncertainty coming up and this opportunity arose in the midst of it. I’ve framed it as I would feel like an idiot if I didn’t at least try for the position and also if I managed to get it and turn it down. It was time to make another leap of faith.

My job is a lot like others I’ve had before — I think I only have to tweak one sentence in the “About Me” tab here. I’m excited about helping guide this publication into its next phase. I’m also excited this being a change not made of an overwhelming urge to leave where I am. It’s like the first time I left that newsroom. Although a lot of reporters (and editors) have come and gone there, it’s always felt like a family. It’s just time for me to leave home on my own terms.

My new place currently has a relationship with the old one, so it’s still not like I’m truly gone. What soon will be my former newsroom always will have a special place in my heart, much like The Hopewell News, may she rest in peace.

My biggest problem is that I really, really, really want to go by E. Devon Robinson on the things I write (this is a thing I did from middle school to 2008), but I don’t want anyone calling me Devon. No one’s ever called me by my middle name.

days

Today is the first time I worked days since I was briefly a reporter again in September 2016. That ended a stretch of working days that lasted about a year. Before that, I came to work in Hopewell early every other day. I’m typically not a morning person, so not needing an alarm to wake up and getting home after 11 p.m. has been fine.

Until it stopped being fine.

At first, I thought the extended period of my extreme commute made me hate nights. But we’ve been here two months now and I didn’t embrace it again. Being able to run errands and such when a lot of people are working wasn’t enough.

Leaving work with the sun still up felt wrong. Going home to cook dinner and eat it about when normal people eat dinner was weird. Being home from work and unwinding not meaning mostly gearing up for bed and not seeing my wife for a portion of that time is weird. And great.

I need to be at work within the half-hour period of when I normally wake up without an alarm, so adjusting my bedtime wasn’t exactly that hard.

Coupled with my short commute I might actually do normal things after work.

I could get used to this.

24

So … I’ve been pretty bad on this whole writing thing lately. I’ve estimated that the first step of my editing process, hitting F7 to get the easiest errors, will take 15 hours. I can’t bring myself to commit that much time to one task yet. I’m still decompressing to having a nearly three-hour commute for about five months. I’m basking in not exactly having to do anything for a few hours before work. I’m luxuriating in not having to cram all of my tasks into my weekends. I’m savoring getting home before my wife goes to bed.

I purchased gas a few hours ago. The last time I filled up the tank was in March. I think my longest trip since we moved to Albemarle County, not including a trip to Orange County for a dinner, was 11 miles. (And that was because I had forgotten a geographic quirk in Charlottesville and chose a road that took three miles to get within a half-mile of my point of origin.)

Anyway, I’ve been avoiding writing, editing and reading outside of work for a little while now. And it needs to stop. It’s been more than enough time for me to recuperate. It’s just that having lazy moments after being on the go so long has felt so great. I mean, I took work ethic to the extreme — I wrecked my car on the way home from work in January, did not make it home and still went to work the following day. I also nearly was in tears in early February because my longest extreme commute was really, really, really starting to get to me. But, if I’m still kinda sitting here, wasting time by the time my birthday rolls along I need swift kick in the ass. Ninety days to recoup is enough.

Notwithstanding decompression, I’m going to hit my 24th state before I turn 35. I count states visited when I get out of the car or venture beyond an airport. That’s the only way Rhode Island counts. And Mississippi. And Kentucky. And West Virginia. If you count sleeping in a state, I’ll only hit 18 (seventeen, if you don’t count passing out in a car in Kentucky). And my total is 21, if you count states in which I’ve driven. I drove my previous car, Nicole, in 17.

I’m a little excited about hitting 24 states. I’m certain I won’t have a direct flight to Nebraska, so I’m hoping the layover is in a state I’ve already visited; I don’t want to have an asterisk beside Illinois or something until I get around to getting beyond fare control. (I know the proper term is “airside,” but I like the rail nomenclature.)

Well, I’m more than excited.

Ever since I was at an age that “ever since I was a child” didn’t sound clichéd, I wanted to travel. I’ve always wanted to drive the entire length of Interstate 64. Of the primary freeways, I’ve done all of interstates 12, 66, 78, 83, 85 and 97, as well as the discontiguous pieces of 99. Of interstates 95 and 81, I only have New Hampshire and Maine (not including the future contiguous piece through New Jersey) and north of Scranton to go, respectively. I’m also proud to say that I have lived in the cities at both ends of U.S. 258.

My grandparents (and, to an extent, my parents) lived in a time when it wasn’t safe to travel. Hell, some people say today isn’t much safer. I refuse to be bound by fear. I love that I can say that it’s a shame that my favorite restaurant is in New York and my favorite bar is in Miami. And that I’ve eaten at the (in)famous Stinking Rose in Beverly Hills, taken a selfie at the edge of the Grand Canyon and had jambalaya in a spot for locals in New Orleans.

I refuse to be bound.

Do not allow yourself to be bound.

dcfc

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October, I need you so much closer.

As most of you know, I fell hard in the early 2000s for many subsets of indie rock. In a way, I think it was to be contrary, because nearly all of my friends at the time listened to hip-hop, r&b and the flavor-of-the-week college rock songs

Early Arcade Fire spoke to me, and so did Blonde Redhead and Belle & Sebastian and Rilo Kiley.

And Death Cab for Cutie.

I have a 129-song playlist named “BEN GIBBARD.” I briefly didn’t like Zooey Deschanel because I felt Codes and Keys was too upbeat. Transatlanticism was my first, but Something About Airplanes is special to me. I know the words to nearly every song on Plans. I once wrote a half-page album review in a market that did not care at all about Death Cab. I did not care.

In October, I’ll hear some of my favorite songs live.

I normally don’t impulse-buy concert tickets. I usually don’t buy concert tickets in general. I’m fine with doing a lot of things by myself, but I like sharing concerts with people. But the people who love the bands I love don’t really live near me anymore. I hope the person I’m seeing Death Cab with is prepared for me losing it during the bridge of Tiny Vessels or shouting the lyrics to Fake Frowns.

I have a list of songs I want to hear. If they do Stability (not Stable Song) for some crazy reason, I’ll explode. I’ll settle for Different Names for the Same Thing.

For some crazy reason, I really want to hear Information Travels Faster live.

But I don’t care what they play, because I’m going to be there.

Only 166 days to go.

i have a dining room

This is my new theme song.

As of a few hours ago, all of our belongings are in our new apartment in Albemarle County.

I go back to work tomorrow.

There is a work-related thing I need to do tonight.

I am so tired.

Almost everything remains in boxes, and I not only stopped labeling boxes at one point, I started putting things in boxes with no rhyme or reason.

But

Our apartment complex had a problem and the apartment we picked wasn’t available on our move-in day. After much consternation, we were given a larger apartment for less money. So far, the potential of this place has been amazing.

I’m sitting in my dining room right now. Sure, it’s a pass-through to the apartment-sized kitchen, but it’s a room where the table is supposed to go. One half of our living room is where living room furniture is going. The remainder is going to house my books and most likely a desk for me. I really want the dining room table to be just for food, unless I want a change of venue. There’s a second bedroom, so we don’t have to get out of here if and when we have a kid. I’ll have to buy a wardrobe, though, because that room essentially is my closet and the home of my fraternity chapter’s archives.

We also have a second bathroom and an office for Renée, who will be working for home.

There’s so much space. I can’t wait to put things where they’re supposed to be.

But I need to go back to work first.

And rest.