Emchap's Shit from the Internet 2/7/18 🍠
Remember last week, when I was all excited about having found an apartment two days into my time here? About that.
Last Thursday, I showed up to my apartment (having signed all my lease paperwork and paid a horrific sum of money, etc. etc.), assuming I'd be set up to do a quick walkthrough and take possession. The nice on-site manager couple greeted me, they walked in to the apartment, and walked up the stairs to an apartment other than the one I had toured.
It did match the numbering on the lease I'd signed, for the only one-bed in the building listed on my management company's website, but this was understandably confusing.
I walked around the unit—and honestly, would have taken it—but was dismayed to learn that it didn't have a balcony (which was why I'd rented the unit in the first place).
Because New York has made me very slightly bolder, I gathered my courage and made a request (a process that makes me want to die from the shame of having a preference).
"This is weird, but, uh, I didn't tour this unit?" They asked which unit I had toured, and I pointed it out across the courtyard. "Can I... live in that one?"
The managers, understandably, did not 100% know how to handle that. They called the management company, and after some phone tag and 15 minutes of VERY uncomfortable waiting in the courtyard, it became clear that the agent who'd accompanied me on the tour had shown me a unit that wasn't ready for showing yet. But, it was empty, and it rents for the same as the unit I'd signed the lease on, and the management company said that was fine. I was given keys and told to come back to get new ones in a few days when they'd swapped the unit's lock out.
So, after a couple of increasingly anxious days of "hey, not to be weird, but do you have my keys yet?" I was told to come over after the Super Bowl. At this point, my managers discovered that the keys they'd been told were there were not, which was very exciting for everyone.
I came back the next day to get the keys that had now been placed there. I walked over to my unit, and discovered that the keys did not work—they went into the lock, but didn't turn it.
The managers said they'd call the management company. A few days later I heard from them that the keys do work, they'd tested it, the lock was just sticky.
Because I am a terrible friend, I made the woman I was getting dinner with drive me over to the new apartment, and witness me try to unlock the door. She tried. Neither of us could.
I broke and called the managers.
"I'm sure I'm just, like, dumb with locks, but could you come show me what I'm doing wrong?"
They came over, and locked and unlocked the door with their master key. They locked and unlocked it with their copy of my key. I felt slightly dumb, and asked if they could lock and unlock the door with my copy of my key.
They couldn't. I was given a miscut key and a sense of mild vindication.
The manager, who seemed to have come around to my side in the saga of the worst key experience in the world, said she'd write a letter to have the company prorate my rent. I was given the key that works.
So, housing step one: complete! Now to figure out where to buy a couch.
Shit to read
This is a lovely little writeup on a photo gallery in Senegal and on Senegalese self-representation in photos.
Patricia Lockwood wrote about ice skating; go read it now.
This piece on Vanderpump Rules, a terrible show about awful people, is fantastic.
The Avett Brothers sing without an ounce of emotional remove, and are earnest in the way that Methodist youth ministers are earnest, and I loved this article about that aspect of their music. There's something interesting in them and in the McElroy brothers and the Green brothers about siblings who make art together in a joyful sort of fashion.
Moon milk is dumb, and this baffled article from someone who grew up drinking it when sick is great.
I will always link to articles about medical sexism (particularly if they're about migraines, a condition from which I suffer; I am self-interested).
Cardi B's nail artist is a woman named Jenny Bui and this profile of her is great.
Please read this look at HGTV's house flippers. It's great.
I care to some extent about my digital privacy and whatever, but my actual objection to Internet Of Things devices is that they are so bad at what they do? Like, the future shouldn't be this stupid. I enjoyed this article on a smart home for looking at both the "this is so stupid" view of it and the "the fuck why doesn't Hulu encrypt your traffic" view of it. Accessible and funny.
If you missed the Traister takedown of the Roiphe piece, it is excellent.
Shit to eat
Go to the House of Pies.
Flip to the back, where the pancakes are.
Order cinnamon streusel stuffed banana pancakes and some coffee.
Read the Wilson translation of the Odyssey while your food is being prepared.
Overhear the woman next to you straight-up order pie for breakfast, and salute her.
In 10 minutes, a surly waitress will bring you three pancakes, with layers of mashed banana in between each pancake.
They'll be covered in crumb cake topping.
Also caramel syrup.
Also whipped cream.
And butter.
Inhale the whole mess in 15 minutes and regret nothing about your choices.
Shit to listen to
"No Hard Feelings" is an Avett Brothers song about the release of death (namechecked in the article linked in the first section), and it is beautiful and sad and makes me homesick for the concept of sitting on the porch in the early evening in June in north Georgia.
"Murder in the City", also from them, is a decade old and makes me cry. The third and fourth stanzas, about which one of the brothers their parents love more, gut me every time.
And finally, the great howling yell of "Talk on Indolence" is so much FUN to see live—I've seen them a few times, now, and it is so great every time. The kick in to "I'm a little nervous/'bout what you'll think/when you see me/in my swimming trunks" a minute in is just great.
Shit to buy
These earrings are delicate little Calder-looking mobiles and I love them.
Same with these big hoops.
I am obsessed with this linen tunic from Boden in a lemon print.
Also desperately trying to justify purchasing this linen dress (it is obscene, but lovely).
Same with this jumpsuit from the same company.
I am just really charmed with the sort of fun strappy thing Aerie is doing on these high waisted briefs?