The Pinnacle of Sophisticated and Glamourous Adult Living


Going on five days in the new apartment and something really HUGE has finally just sunk in:

I have a claw foot tub, guys.

I do!  I have dreamed of having a claw foot tub since I was a small child, no doubt inspired by some movie or television program or book or who knows what because I sure cannot remember.  Regardless of the origin of this dream, claw foot tubs have symbolized the pinnacle of sophisticated and glamourous adult living to me for as long as I can remember.

I must (FINALLY!) be a sophisticated and glamourous adult, is what this means.

Whenever I doubt myself from now on – maybe I start thinking I’m not leading a very exciting life or I am not as cool as I would have liked to be as an adult or I feel like I am only pretending to be an adult and am actually still 17 on the inside or whatever else comes up – I am just going to refer myself to the claw foot tub as evidence to the contrary.

Why don’t you have a more active social life for a twenty-something, Niki?

Umm…check out the claw foot tub, Niki.  You’re doing just fine.

Why do all your clothes come from The Gap or Loft?  You could stand to be a little edgier, Niki.

Hey, Niki- shut it.  You have a claw foot tub.

Niki, are you aware that you were just listening to Call Me Maybe on repeat?

Claw.  Foot.  Tub.

Yeah, this claw foot tub is a big effing deal in my life, showering logistics not withstanding.  I mean seriously – anyone out there tried showering in a claw foot tub lately?

My main issue is puddling vs. intrusive shower curtain.

See, in order to prevent puddles, one needs TWO shower curtain liners, one on either side of the tub because, hello, claw foot tubs aren’t attached to the wall is what makes them so freaking sophisticated and glamourous in the first place.

So if you tuck the shower curtain between the wall and the tub, it does very little to prevent the flood-like puddle situation – may has well not even have a curtain.  But two shower curtains on the inside of the tub sure do encroach on your personal space; having shower curtains touching you on both sides during a shower feels neither sophisticated nor glamourous, I tell you what.

I’m working on solutions, but any advice is welcome.

I have so many other things I want to talk about vis-a-vis my new apartment, however it feels right to devote this whole post to nothing but the glory of the claw foot*.  Good thing there are fully two days left in New Apartment Week, eh??

*I wanted to post some sweet pictures of my tub, but I forgot to take any and I still don’t have internet so I write this to you from a coffee shop.  I’ll post this picture of a significantly more elegant claw footer that I found on Google images instead.

Not my tub!


Rootbeer Float and Harry Potter


I am going to write a blog post from my iPhone because some dummy didn’t set up internet in her new place yet.  Being rather bad at using the small onscreen keyboard – curse mine clumsy fingers- I anticipate that this will not go smoothly.

So first I have to pledge my undying gratitude to My Sister, Her Boyfriend, My BFF and My BFFiance ( as he shall henceforth be known) for helping me move my furniture.  I have furniture in my new apartment now; I quite like furniture, and therefore owe a great debt to those named (or not named, as it were) above.

To christen my first night here, I decided to have a Rootbeer float, which was also the first thing I ate when I moved into The Burrow.  I shall always have Rootbeer floats to start my life in a new place!

I am also watching Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part II. My emotional reaction to the move has been made evident by my overly emotional reaction to the movie.  *SOB* HARRY IS SO BRAVE OMG OMG *SOB* and so on…

Also I have decided to name my new apartment after another Harry Potter place.  Suggestions?  I am leaning toward one, but I’d like to hear ideas first before I finalize anything.

And now my autocorrect is making increasingly more erratic and nonsensical changes and I am about to chuck my iPhone out one of my 8 gorgeous windows.  Remember: HP place name ideas in comments!


New Apartment Week


FACT: Moving is a terrible thing.

Truly truly terrible.

First you have to organize your stuff, and decide what stuff to keep and what to not keep, and then get rid of stuff you decide to not keep.  They you have to pack the stuff you want to keep, but make sure it’s not so heavy as to be unliftable; I’m talking to you, Books.

You have to find generous souls to help you move your couch and other large scale furniture down the twisty turns of the three-flight staircase and also borrow a van from your family farm that will likely smell vaguely of chicken crap but is well big enough to hold your furniture.

You also have to walk your other stuff DOWN three flights of stairs, load it into your Corolla and drive it two minutes away and then walk it UP three flights of stairs.  You have to do this in 90 degree heat, and when you return from just one carload’s worth you will wake up fully an hour later sandwiched between a box fan and an oscillating fan, having stripped off all your clothes and possessing very little memory of how you got there.

Those last bits may have been referencing specifically my move rather than the general practice of moving.  But moving is hard, is what I am saying.

What is also hard is leaving a place you have loved.  I have been happy in my current apartment.  I started fauxspectacles here and filmed the Raptor Twins and became good at my job while I lived here and honed the fine art of microwave burrito-making in this kitchen and had lots of night terrors in this bedroom and Just Dance 3ed for more hours that I can count in this living room and just all around liked my life while I was here.

Not everyone likes their life and while I feel pretty certain that I will continue to like my life in my new apartment – I mean, it has literally double the number of windows as my current – it is nonetheless hard not to feel sad and a little nervous.

And mostly very annoyed.  And also hot.  Like super hot. Like so hot that you go to the grocery store for microwave burrito ingredients and end up wandering the aisles for half an hour just to remember what it is like to feel cool again.

I would say that my next lease will start in November, except that I am never moving ever ever again if I can help it.