Welcome

*** Credit (or blame) for me starting a blog should be directed to the lovely and talented dear friend of mine, Megan Miller. ***


I fall asleep on my couch or love seat nearly every day. Sometimes twice a day.

This is my attempt at publicly embarrassing myself to the point of avoiding said behavior.

Who doesn't like a nap on the couch? I live a lifestyle that fully affords it, for the most part.

In fact, I have reached the point where I consider an afternoon without a nap a disappointment. I have no intention of curbing this habit.

Instead, my issue relates to literally sleeping on the couch or love seat for six or more hours, overnight, while a perfectly comfortable and inviting queen bed sits no more than 20 paces away. I consider this habit the embodiment and definition of the laziness that pervades my life.

Some brief background information:

After moving back to State College in the fall of 2006, I was forced to quickly find a new place to dwell when the 'vacation' house of the family friends I lived in suddenly became their 'real' house.

I still had student friends attending Penn State, but no place to live.

Naturally, I turned to Craigslist.

Because things tend to work out for me, I saw a post that offered a room in a one-bedroom apartment downtown and arranged a visit. The conditions weren't ideal. The one-bedroom apartment had two people living in it - one used the living room as a bedroom, the other used the bedroom as a bedroom, and both shared the kitchen and bathroom. The kid in the living room graduated in December and was moving out. The one who remained had a Facebook profile picture of him shooting an AK-47.

The rent was only $340 a month, though, so who was I to turn it down? Granted, the apartment was borderline disgusting, but I had a grocery store, bar, and major university all within 50 yards.

So, friend Matt McCowan helped me bring all of my worldly possessions - a Dell desktop computer and 70 pound CRT monitor, 19-inch RCA tube television, PlayStation 2, DVDs, books, etc. etc., computer chair, and air mattress - which all conveniently fit into my 1995 Mercedes C280, up the two flights of stairs and into my room.

Talk about cozy.

Granted, the air mattress deflated to half-full every night, leaving me to sleep on the ground while engulfed by filled air mattress on both sides, but, it worked. The door was a curtain drawn across the threshold of the room.

Having already spoken with my landlord Lou (think Jeff Bridges as the Big Lebowski) about taking over the entirety of the apartment when AK-47 toting roommate moved out, I declined the option of moving my already purchased bed, couch and love seat to the apartment. As a reference, a previous residence of mine in State College in the slums of West College Avenue (much to the chagrin of my mother) once locked me in for a full hour when the doorknob simply fell off, so, it could have been worse.

Fast forward nine months. Still sleeping on the half-filled air mattress, eventually the roommate who kept his door closed, but was generally nice on the rare occasion he spoke to me, moved out. My dad, the reverend James Bauer, was counseling an ex-con and rehabbing alcoholic who owned a truck, so they loaded it with the matching couch and love seat aforementioned in the title of this blog, and brought it to State College. (Thanks, Dad!)

My eventual bedroom stayed empty for another three months until I had the money to buy a bed, but I had a couch, and I had a love seat, and that was enough.

That's when I began to sleep on my couch or love seat, nightly.

I once read a GQ article that implored the modern man (me) to not put a TV in the bedroom, so I took the cable connection out of the room, set up a great reading lamp on the bedpost with a few magazines on a nightstand. Still, I wound up spending most nights watching The Daily Show in the living room on my love seat, turning the TV off, curling into the fetal position and falling asleep until about 6 a.m. (Side note 1: Mind you, not only did I have an inviting bed, but also a full-sized couch in the same room.) (Side note 2: the lights were already off since I was using, at the time and for the next three years, strands of Christmas lights that gradually went from 4/5 lit all the way down to 1/5 lit... I like the dark so I didn't mind it.) at which point, I would get up, brush my teeth, take out my contacts, and go back to sleep in my real bed until 8:30 a.m.

There were nights when I made it to bed. But, generally, that was my routine.

Since then, the apartment has been completely upgraded thanks to a commitment to becoming an adult one year ago, and four subsequent trips to Ikea in Conshohocken on four consecutive weekends to get a bookshelf, a coffee table, an end table, a lamp, and a TV stand for my future 50-inch television (which would eventually become an obscene 58-inch television when I finally pulled the trigger after more than two years of research, because really, why not?).

This brings us to the present day. The home furnishings have changed drastically, but the love seat, couch, and habit have stayed the same. I intend to change this.

Of course, I would be disingenuous if I pretended to be anything other than a narcissist, so other topics are certain to be covered in this space, including but not limited to: my commitment to cooking with a crock pot, my very real addiction to Chick Fila and attempt to completely break from all fast food, my job, my travels, my friends, my family, my interest in getting an English bulldog, my self-imposed test of keeping a basil plant alive for at least nine months before any serious consideration given to owning a pet, and really, anything else I feel like discussing.

On that note, since the introduction of this blog is belated to my crock pot commitment, here is what I have made so far, with ratings:

- Beef Stew (7.2/10)
- Pulled Pork (6.9/10)

Songs I listened to more than five times today: Jay-Z - Empire State of Mind
Cups of coffee at Irving's: At least six
Television watched: BCS National Championship (disinterested)
Trips to Wegman's: One
Trips to Chick Fila: None
Hours spent sleeping on the couch or love seat: So far, none.