dimanche 23 janvier 2005

Expanding my horizons.

So we had a small blizzard this weekend. That is my poor car on the left. I started to dig it out, but then had to stop to take a picure. It took me two hours to shovel it out, not because it was back-breaking work but actually because I couldn't figure out what to do with all of the snow. Shovel all the snow onto my roommate's car? Sounds like a good idea. Push just a little bit out into the street? That might have happened by accident. And the picture on the right - that's across the street from my apartment. Can you see the cars? No? Well, there are three there, I promise. Those poor cars were buried even deeper in snow than mine.

Really, how do you get rid of all the snow? I guess you just have to let it melt, but given the way the weather's been, that might not be until May. Well, as long as I can get my car out tomorrow because, you know, even though I am paying good money for an apartment in Cambridge, what fun would it be if I was actually there?

I will be in NY for the week, learning about how my masters degree will be completely useless in helping me find a job. However, I will get to booze it up at the local alumni club, so maybe that'll be worth it. I will also be eating, drinking, probably recommitting many past mistakes (read: sleeping with guys whom I have already determined, for lack of a better word, suck, because they have little moral character but who cares, I'm not dating them), and shopping. All in the name of good ol' carousing and helping the economy.

On top of it, I am staying in - gasp! - Brooklyn, because a friend won't be there that week and I can use her apartment for free (I refuse to sleep on someone's couch for a week. I wonder if they have internet access out there*). It was that or a sublet, and I can use all the money I'd be paying for the sublet on alcohol. And cabs. And shoes. Let's not talk about how I tend to buy the same type of shoe (in my closet currently reside: 6 pairs of black slingbacks, 3 pairs of pink flats, 4 pairs of gold sandals (there are many other different shoes too, don't you worry) - but I swear, all the shoes are slightly different), yet none of them are actually practical. A good pair of walking shoes? Why, what are those? Walking shoes are not cute because they don't have high heels nor pointy toes.** No wonder I have occassional back pain - between my chest and my shoes, my spine has no fighting chance of actually being comfortable.

So if you want to buy me a drink, you know where to find me (read: save me from having to spend too much time in Brooklyn please).

*Before you send me hate mail, yes, I know they have internet access out there, I'm not a Manhattan-centric snob. Oh wait. Yes I am.
**Oddly enough, my most comfortable pair of shoes are a pair of 3.5-inch-heeled strappy sandals. I'm not making this up, nor deluding myself into thinking that is the truth. I've worn them for hours with no blister, and that's a miracle in and of itself. However, I cannot wear open-toed shoes in the cold, dammit.