![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Falling on my feet.
Reason number sixty-five why I don't want to keep living here: someone stole both my big soup pot and my teakettle out of the kitchen. I checked all the residence floors' kitchen cabinets and shelves, even going into some of the refridgerators to see if anyone stuck the stuff in there for some reason, and came up with nothing. Zilch. Zip. Vanished into the ether. A bunch of people were living here as part of a program from Cornell University, and they moved out this morning, right when these things went missing. The crowning likelihood is that they took these objects with them. I've put up notes in both elevators anyway, and will call the residence offices tomorrow, plus stay in touch with someone I know from said program and see if she can give me a hand in this.
I'd be about as upset as I was when my small pot went missing, and would have gone into the mode of 'it's stuff I can replace and I can get by with other things until then' if this wasn't the big pot I got with my dad when I moved out to Pittsburgh and it wasn't the stovetop teakettle I found at a curbside sale for free that I polished until I could see myself smiling in it. I checked, and I could.
So I ended up throwing a frozen can of soda arond the kitchen to try to feel better. As it turns out, when cans of carbonated diet lemon-lime soda are kept frozen for three months, they billow out at the ends, which makes the seams weak; also, when they're thrown at hard surfaces with great force, the seams crack and rip. Furthermore, cracked, ripped seams of hard metal tear into skin without much effort. So my right index finger almost lost a good bit of the fingerprint, and I've since stocked up on band-aids.
There was also the opportunity tonight to do a bit of drinking. The restaurant I went to with my brother and grandmother had mead on the drinks menu, and I wanted to know what it tasted like. When I asked about it, the waiter said that it was different, it was interesting, and that plenty of people ordered it but no one ordered it a second time. That made me know I needed to try some, and once I did, know I'd buck the trend and did, in fact, order a second glass of Viking Blod. The best part was that it tasted like I imagined mead ought to taste.
I'm feeling more stable. Not better, just more stable, and I don't have much hope for tomorrow but I'll show up and see what happens just the same.
I'd be about as upset as I was when my small pot went missing, and would have gone into the mode of 'it's stuff I can replace and I can get by with other things until then' if this wasn't the big pot I got with my dad when I moved out to Pittsburgh and it wasn't the stovetop teakettle I found at a curbside sale for free that I polished until I could see myself smiling in it. I checked, and I could.
So I ended up throwing a frozen can of soda arond the kitchen to try to feel better. As it turns out, when cans of carbonated diet lemon-lime soda are kept frozen for three months, they billow out at the ends, which makes the seams weak; also, when they're thrown at hard surfaces with great force, the seams crack and rip. Furthermore, cracked, ripped seams of hard metal tear into skin without much effort. So my right index finger almost lost a good bit of the fingerprint, and I've since stocked up on band-aids.
There was also the opportunity tonight to do a bit of drinking. The restaurant I went to with my brother and grandmother had mead on the drinks menu, and I wanted to know what it tasted like. When I asked about it, the waiter said that it was different, it was interesting, and that plenty of people ordered it but no one ordered it a second time. That made me know I needed to try some, and once I did, know I'd buck the trend and did, in fact, order a second glass of Viking Blod. The best part was that it tasted like I imagined mead ought to taste.
I'm feeling more stable. Not better, just more stable, and I don't have much hope for tomorrow but I'll show up and see what happens just the same.