I've had new glasses 5 times in my life. I'm 25, and I got my first pair when I was in second grade. Dorky glasses, middle school Katie knew you well.
But I can't blame my mom for not wanting to shell out hundreds of dollars to get me new specs. The optometry industry is run by a bunch of price-fixing gangsters in this country. $200 for plastic frames, are you kidding me? These things cost $6 at xmart, and we call them sunglasses. An extra $50 for the coating, another $50 for the extra thin lenses, it's criminal.
Which is why I was so excited when I saw this article in Slate. Seems that China is coming to the rescue, and finally I can order my glasses online for a fraction of the cost (seriously, under $50). As my mom told me when I was 14, they all look basically the same, anyway. So buy 'em online and save some cash.
Back when my friend Derek moved into an apartment in Lincoln, I told him that I was reminded of this Talking Heads song. I don't know what it's really supposed to be about, but to me it feels like David Byrne is singing to himself to reassure himself that he has made an excellent decision, and living alone in his new building will be great. He'll be working hard and his friends will come visit. He hopes they come visit. They need not worry, he couldn't possibly get sad and lonely in such a wonderful new apartment...
So I moved into a new apartment last weekend. Liz, Erin, and Neha were kind enough to come help sort through the stuff that the ex-tenent/my friend had left, which included bags of clothing, shoes (reserved for Becca in exchange for future painting services), lots of plywood wine crates, frozen and perishable food, an extra bed, a list of 10 things my friend is looking for in a mate, an oversized workbook guide to getting my life in order, and two cats.
Liz stayed overnight, which in retrospect was awesome, because I didn't have to spend the first lonely night alone in my messy apartment. Instead, we ate ice cream and stayed up late talking about things I don't remember. The next night, I spent my first lonely night alone. Alone save for my new cat Blue, who evidently is accustomed to sleeping in bed, preferably on the face of whoever is inhabiting it. I threw him off at least 20 times, but he was determined to get his spot on the bed, and my door was blocked open with boxes of textbooks.
After several nights, the cats have decided that the foot of the bed is a fair compromise, but have not proven their worth as guard kitties. My downstairs neighbor asked me in passing if I'd heard the four young raccoons that were ravaging the cat food in my closet the night before. Raccoons? Four of them? Come to think of it, I'd heard someone munching on the cat food, but I naively assumed it was a cat. Shouldn't the kitties have let me know if an entire family of vermin were making themselves at home in my closet? Lesson learned - the wire door to the outside steps must be closed after dark - raccoons have no problem using kitty doors.
This is my first solo apartment, the first time everything in the fridge is mine, the first time all the hair in the sink is mine, the first time I have nobody to blame but myself for the level of filth or cleanliness I might find myself in. I can walk around naked all day long, or I can once I replace the sheer pink curtains in the living room. I'm sure I'll miss having someone to distract me any time day or night, but hopefully my friends will visit. I'll put down what I'm doing, my friends are important to MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEee (thanks David Byrne...)
Watch this space for some pics of my new digs. Or drop by! I'm not so hard to find.
A couple of weeks ago I wrote and did not publish an entry in which I vented about a misogynistic group of bro-geeks who happen to reside in my department. One of my main problems with this special breed of bros was their proclamation that our class of first year grad students was disappointing and somehow not cool enough to meet their expectations. Those bros are wrong. I have some hilarious cool classmates. And they're smart, too.
Having finally assembled my apartment, and my sister having returned from Montana (bearing gifts of pasta maker, silverware rack, and powdered glacier frost gatorade...mmm...), I had a housewarming party. My whole class showed up, ate some food, played some telephone pictionary (still the best party game going), and started a very proficient band composed of acoustic guitar, harmonica, and ukulele. Usually when people play the latter two instruments, they just make some noise, but these kids were jamming. There may or may not have been some beatboxing and rap battling. We had a great time, please reference figure 1, below.
A bit of advice: if you're moving into a new place, make sure it comes with a ukulele.