I've been apartment hunting!
My lease isn't up until the end of December, but I absolutely hate being rushed so I started looking for a new place about a month ago. I have a roommate now, and she's moving with her boyfriend, which means it's time for me to live on my own, really on my own, for the first time. My mom didn't live on her own until after her marriage ended. 20-something seems like a good time to be self sufficient.
I think I did find an apartment. It's cheap enough that I can afford it by myself without giving up luxuries like new pants and take-out pizza. It's clean, has an old building feel but a redone interior, and the guy who owns it is really nice. But it's super small. One room with a kitchen offshoot and a bathroom kind of small. In apartment terms that is a "studio" but in Sarah terms that's called "post-college but still-a-dorm room."
At some point I want to be an adult. Someone who owns a washer and dryer and gets super excited about the ice cube maker in the fridge. I'll become overly excited about tomato plants and overly sad about chipmunks. You know the usual.
For now, all I really want is a place to call my own that has four walls, high speed internet, and feels safe. Check, sort of check, and probably check.
You might be thinking, "Sarah, as an avid reader of your blog, I know all about your love life. Why aren't you moving in with Boyfriend?" Stop thinking that. Stop thinking that right now before the thought exits your brain, enters your keyboard, and becomes my first ever blog comment. It would be really sad if my first ever blog comment resulted in me reaching through my computer to punch someone in the face.
I love Boyfriend, but he thinks, and rightly so, that a couple should be together for a few years before living together. I can't really put a number on how long I think a couple should test run a relationship for before embarking on lease signage, but I can tell you that we aren't there yet.
To be honest, as a child of divorce, I am hesitant to live with someone I'm dating. I've seen how long it takes to untangle your lives once there's more than emotional interweaving. I'm also concerned because a study indicated that those who live with more than one partner before marriage have a higher divorce rate. With that bit of information looming overhead, I want to be reasonably sure my partner is "the one" before living together. I think I have less trepidation about engagement. After all, it's easy to give back a ring; it is very hard to break a lease.
If you don't know where the title of this post comes from, you can watch this.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Less Awkward Turtle
(This post will make no sense unless you read the one before)
I may have confused the hell out of my internet love, Matt Inman, but I made a positive impression on Jenny from The Bloggess. I emailed her my picture of The Oats vomiting on Wil Wheaton's collating and she sent me back this message:
"LOVE. I'm putting this in my folder of "things that make me smile and are
I may have confused the hell out of my internet love, Matt Inman, but I made a positive impression on Jenny from The Bloggess. I emailed her my picture of The Oats vomiting on Wil Wheaton's collating and she sent me back this message:
"LOVE. I'm putting this in my folder of "things that make me smile and are
unexplainable to my grandmother."
YOU ROCK."
Being noticed by awesome people makes my life more awesome.
Thanks, Jenny for validating my awkward encounter with The Oatmeal.
P.S. I just spent some serious time deciding if awkward turtles are quantifiable in a way which would categorize them as "less awkward turtle" or "fewer awkward turtles." I finally decided that while it is sometimes fun to say that I was "like fifteen awkward turtles in there!" I do so because it's even more hilarious since I can't possibly be that many turtles. I think awkward turtle is more of a continuum of awkwardness in a way which denotes the usage of "fewer" instead of "less." Whoa. Grammer.
P.S. I just spent some serious time deciding if awkward turtles are quantifiable in a way which would categorize them as "less awkward turtle" or "fewer awkward turtles." I finally decided that while it is sometimes fun to say that I was "like fifteen awkward turtles in there!" I do so because it's even more hilarious since I can't possibly be that many turtles. I think awkward turtle is more of a continuum of awkwardness in a way which denotes the usage of "fewer" instead of "less." Whoa. Grammer.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
I'm Super Awkward Turtle about The Oatmeal
Last night I met Matt Inman.
Actually, I don't really think I met him. Meeting someone involves a back and forth communication wherein you learn about one another: I say, "Hello, my name is Sarah." And Matt says, "Hello, my name is Mr. Oats." And then we talk for a bit about real things like the epic choice between the toothbrush that's on sale or the kind that comes in your favorite color. Real things that you can't find our from a dating profile or two blogs worth of stalking.
What did happen was this: Boyfriend bought us tickets to a TEDx Talk in Princeton. (The x stands for independently organized... When the librarian told us that, I wasn't sure if she was incredibly dumb or the whole TED site was. Possibly both are true.) We sat in a room of 100+ guests and watched a hodgepodge of short TED talks and two live guests. Sarah, who spelled her name the correct way and had lovely pink hair, embodied everything I try to be when I put on my fake leather jacket and dance around my room singing loudly. She was an unknown entity to me but I hope that in the future she makes it big and kicks Jack Johnson in the pants, resulting in his retiring from music and her being played in coffee shops that I frequent. Then Matt went up to talk.
The theme of the evening was humor, but to be honest, it was sort of like how TBS thinks they are "very funny" but show things like Jurassic Park, which is not all that funny. Velociraptors are anything but hilarious. Our live and our video presenters were all comedians to some extent, but the focus of each presentation didn't seem to be about humor as much as a presentation that uses humor. I'm blaming librarian lady, but she made Mr. Oats available to me so I can't really be mad at her.
Back to Matt. His talk was sort of fantastic. I knew most of his presentation and Q&A answers already, because I am a good stalker, but seeing him up their in a button down and tie was epic. I really enjoyed the comedic strategies he showed us, like limiting the detail in your characters, or why dogs aren't as funny as cats. I also loved the little things, like his fohawk hair or how he had to step in when librarian couldn't figure out how to find/show videos in IE. (I'm sorry to keep picking on this woman. I'm sure she's very sweet.)
Everyone got a free CD from Sarah, and library bag (yay grocery bag!) and a copy of Matt's book. Like a normal person, I had Sarah sign my cd. Like a crazy person, I had Matt sign a picture of Wil Wheaton collating. I thought up this idea a few days ago while high on coffee. The Bloggess, who is almost as awesome as The Oatmeal (but falls slightly short because of her lack of fohawk) has a whole bit about high res photos and blog marketing gimmicks that has resulted in Wil Wheton collating being a minor internet phenomenon. I had vaguely hoped that Mr. Oats would immediately recognize where the picture came from and we'd be best friends, but I knew that was a lofty dream and so my secondary goal was to amuse myself and at least set myself apart from the crowed a little. Sure, I didn't say anything witty to The Oatmeal, but I have a signed something that no one else does, and he probably remembers me a little, even if it's as "that crazy girl who made me sign SOMEONE ELSE'S PICTURE."
Matt lost zero coolness points for not knowing about The Bloggess, but he did loose two coolness points for not recognizing Wil Wheaton. I don't know how you can call yourself a geek without being able to recognize him. Even if you're not a Trekkie, he's been on BBT and he's all over the inter-webs. When I told him who the picture was of, he muttered something about recognizing him from the blogosphere, which knocks of another half a point of coolness because seriously, WESLEY CRUSHER. I know I just pretended like his work since then matters, but no. No it does not. Star Trek.
Now, when I move, and I need to put up my two Oatmeal posters, I will need to put them on a different wall than my Star Trek collage because obviously Matt Inman doesn't know about Star Trek.
I'm being all snippy about Matt now, which is unfair, especially since I'm already going to hell over librarian lady. But it is a good follow up to exactly how awkward turtle I was about having Matt sign my picture. I mean, I didn't even tell him my name. And when he asked if he should just sign it or if he should draw something, I couldn't really talk so I just mumbled something while shrugging in a way that probably seemed like a seizure to the untrained eye. Oh, and I turned BRIGHT RED.
I'm doing a bad job explaining it, but basically, I have a giant crush on The Oatmeal and Boyfriend took me to meet him anyway because Boyfriend isn't the jealous kind. I am the jealous kind. Don't touch boyfriend. Or Mr. Oats for that matter. Go get your own boy collection.
Actually, I don't really think I met him. Meeting someone involves a back and forth communication wherein you learn about one another: I say, "Hello, my name is Sarah." And Matt says, "Hello, my name is Mr. Oats." And then we talk for a bit about real things like the epic choice between the toothbrush that's on sale or the kind that comes in your favorite color. Real things that you can't find our from a dating profile or two blogs worth of stalking.
What did happen was this: Boyfriend bought us tickets to a TEDx Talk in Princeton. (The x stands for independently organized... When the librarian told us that, I wasn't sure if she was incredibly dumb or the whole TED site was. Possibly both are true.) We sat in a room of 100+ guests and watched a hodgepodge of short TED talks and two live guests. Sarah, who spelled her name the correct way and had lovely pink hair, embodied everything I try to be when I put on my fake leather jacket and dance around my room singing loudly. She was an unknown entity to me but I hope that in the future she makes it big and kicks Jack Johnson in the pants, resulting in his retiring from music and her being played in coffee shops that I frequent. Then Matt went up to talk.
The theme of the evening was humor, but to be honest, it was sort of like how TBS thinks they are "very funny" but show things like Jurassic Park, which is not all that funny. Velociraptors are anything but hilarious. Our live and our video presenters were all comedians to some extent, but the focus of each presentation didn't seem to be about humor as much as a presentation that uses humor. I'm blaming librarian lady, but she made Mr. Oats available to me so I can't really be mad at her.
Back to Matt. His talk was sort of fantastic. I knew most of his presentation and Q&A answers already, because I am a good stalker, but seeing him up their in a button down and tie was epic. I really enjoyed the comedic strategies he showed us, like limiting the detail in your characters, or why dogs aren't as funny as cats. I also loved the little things, like his fohawk hair or how he had to step in when librarian couldn't figure out how to find/show videos in IE. (I'm sorry to keep picking on this woman. I'm sure she's very sweet.)
Everyone got a free CD from Sarah, and library bag (yay grocery bag!) and a copy of Matt's book. Like a normal person, I had Sarah sign my cd. Like a crazy person, I had Matt sign a picture of Wil Wheaton collating. I thought up this idea a few days ago while high on coffee. The Bloggess, who is almost as awesome as The Oatmeal (but falls slightly short because of her lack of fohawk) has a whole bit about high res photos and blog marketing gimmicks that has resulted in Wil Wheton collating being a minor internet phenomenon. I had vaguely hoped that Mr. Oats would immediately recognize where the picture came from and we'd be best friends, but I knew that was a lofty dream and so my secondary goal was to amuse myself and at least set myself apart from the crowed a little. Sure, I didn't say anything witty to The Oatmeal, but I have a signed something that no one else does, and he probably remembers me a little, even if it's as "that crazy girl who made me sign SOMEONE ELSE'S PICTURE."
Matt lost zero coolness points for not knowing about The Bloggess, but he did loose two coolness points for not recognizing Wil Wheaton. I don't know how you can call yourself a geek without being able to recognize him. Even if you're not a Trekkie, he's been on BBT and he's all over the inter-webs. When I told him who the picture was of, he muttered something about recognizing him from the blogosphere, which knocks of another half a point of coolness because seriously, WESLEY CRUSHER. I know I just pretended like his work since then matters, but no. No it does not. Star Trek.
Now, when I move, and I need to put up my two Oatmeal posters, I will need to put them on a different wall than my Star Trek collage because obviously Matt Inman doesn't know about Star Trek.
I'm being all snippy about Matt now, which is unfair, especially since I'm already going to hell over librarian lady. But it is a good follow up to exactly how awkward turtle I was about having Matt sign my picture. I mean, I didn't even tell him my name. And when he asked if he should just sign it or if he should draw something, I couldn't really talk so I just mumbled something while shrugging in a way that probably seemed like a seizure to the untrained eye. Oh, and I turned BRIGHT RED.
I'm doing a bad job explaining it, but basically, I have a giant crush on The Oatmeal and Boyfriend took me to meet him anyway because Boyfriend isn't the jealous kind. I am the jealous kind. Don't touch boyfriend. Or Mr. Oats for that matter. Go get your own boy collection.
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