Besides that and my bath faucet not working (shower is fine, so I've been filling up the tub via shower head), I'm loving my new place and have even met some of my neighbors (lots of cuties, but they're probably all married or gay). I did take out some bathtub frustration on Facebook yesterday while reflecting on "Sex and the City 2," which I was able to watch via my six free months of HBO (thanks Comcast, sort of):
This is why I cringe when people tell me I'm just like Carrie Bradshaw.
I really was quite enraged and almost turned off the movie when Carrie ran into the bathroom, frantic because she'd kissed her ex, and squealed, "Samantha I need you NOW!" and required Samantha to get out of that lovely bath in the $22,000/night suite. It's the worse offense Carrie has ever committed, even worse than the time Charlotte announced she got engaged and Carrie replied with, "Well I just got broken up with by a Post-It." And don't forget the time she wore this:
Notice how none of them can look her in the eye?
Except Miranda, who is clearly trying not to spew coffee all over that shameful outfit.
Tonight I will stay at home to unpack some more, but what I'd really like to be doing is sipping bubbly and eating delicious cheese around the fountain at the Sculpture Garden whilst listening to jazz and wiggling my toes in the cool water.
If you haven't been to Jazz in the Sculpture Garden, this is what you're missing:
I want to go to there. Right. Now.
Alas, I must make it through another work day then go home, take Benadryl and figure out how all my stuff is going to fit in 623 square feet. On the other hand, that's pretty large for a one bedroom. So I'll quit my complaining now.
Blog post on Moving Disaster 2011 soon, whenever I can see out of both eyes.