Here I am at long last, living on my own for the first time in my life. I am stuffed into a two room studio (kitchen, bedroom, bathroom) wondering where to put all my clothes and toiletries. In a effort to make the situation sound super cool, my dear friend Cindy has referred to the new place as a Space Station. "Pretend you're in outer space," she said. "It'll be fun!" she claimed. So here we are, me and the two kitties, exploring the far reaches of the galaxy from Space Station ______________. There, I officially just started a contest to name my apartment.
Last night I'm sitting here chatting with a friend, and it goes something like this:
Friend: How's the view from the space station?
Me: I don't know about my view, but the neighbors might get a decent shot of mah bewbs.
Friend: Like giant asteroids hurling through space!!!
Yes, I need to install a mini-blind. Just one. No biggie, right? Well...I hate to admit it, but somehow along the way of my adult development I have become one of those women who feels the need for a man to hang things up for her. I mean, when I even THINK of hanging up shelves, a picture, mini-blinds, my head goes all fuzzy. All pink and fuzzy and blurry.
I thought about how I might get some help with this, and what does everyone do these days? Craigslist!!! Can you imagine...I post an ad on craigslists looking for a man to help me hang things in my apartment. Some poor little damsel in distress, welcoming strange men into her home. The very most optimist in you might see the beginnings of a really bad porn film here. My Mom will see her dear baby girl bloodied and dying from grisly power tool wounds. I see something in between, and a little bit of both: super creepy guy comes over to find me and at least two of my girlfriends waiting. He's thinking porn film, we're poised and ready to stab the bastard over one wrong move.
Then I think, does it have to be a guy? I know some serious bad ass women who can rock some power tools. If any of you are once again seeing the opening of a slightly less cheezy porn film, I understand. Please don't get too distracted. ANYWAY...hanging things on walls does not equal brain surgery. Shouldn't I be able to do this myself? Well of course I CAN. Everybody knows I'm capable. It just seems like an enormous effort. I don't even own any tools. And no way I am going to go buy those stupid PINK ones just because I'm a girl.
But I will do it. I will find a way. Because even though I enjoy the view of Andromeda from my space station window, I'd like to keep the two giant asteroids (not to mention the MOON) covered up. Indeed.