And Just Like That

I'm gone. Poof. I've been disappeared from the realms of MySpace. I can only imagine that someone took offence to my demand for respect for the sexual prowess of one Ms. Xaviera Hollander. It's not like I'm 14 putting naked pictures of myself up so I can get a 30 yr old dude to come to my house. I put a lot of work into that damn page and now it's gone. I guess folks will just have to get ahold of me the old fashioned way.

I got the money!

I got the mon-ey! I got the mon-ey!

So I'll be starting my PhD program in the fall! I can't wait and I'm sort of shocked! I've already found an apartment and I'll be moving in a few weeks.

Now, I've just got to write a syllabus...I'm a little rusty. This could take a while.

Rejection

I thought I might make a little money and clean out my closet before the big move all in one go. I made some piles sorting into sell-ables and donation only, but it looks like not everything was as sell-able as I thought. Turns out that a missing hook was all it took to have a suede jacket (same style as worn by Phoebe in several episodes of Friends) to be rejected. There were other things as well, but I was completely baffled. The things they did take were certainly the ugliest and some of the oldest things, but the nicer things they passed on. And since they took 15 minutes to check out the clothes and things, I had time to take a look around the store and found some real horrors. One denim skirt obviously came with a good story. Since it was cut into fringe-like strips at the bottom and had a large brown spot on the ass, it seems clear that someone got themselves caught in a shredder and had a bit of an accident. *That* one they paid someone for. In any case, I feel like the rejection was some sort of personal attack on my fashion sense. What do you mean you won't give me a dollar for this shirt?! This is a great shirt! I guess I really shouldn't be offended. It was probably a mistake trying to take my clothes to a store I wouldn't buy anything from in the first place. But there is a strange sort of embarrassment that comes with having one's clothes rejected from a shop whose clothes are nowhere near as cool as your own...I guess the five dollars they paid me for my crap will come in handy at the bar I'll go to to sing and drink the resale blues away.

Don't Fish off the Company Pier

Why won't I ever learn?!

Oh, Sweden!

How better to enjoy our nation's birthday than a trip to those bringers of self-assembly paradise, my good friends at IKEA. We finally got a store near us, a mere 63 minutes away and I got to have my first look inside. Up until a few days ago, I'd only ever seen catalogs.

I didn't know it would be so confusing. It was absolutely overwhelming! Any place that actually hands out maps and includes monitors constantly playing video instructing consumers on how to shop clearly is.

So after 3-4 hours of shopping, and trying not to swept along in the constant forward-pushing river of people, my parents and I escaped realtively unmangled and managed to only spent about $70. Not bad, I say.

I think I might stick to the catalog from now on. Safer.