I got the first estimate from movers today. I suppose it is a good thing for one's heart to take a minute's break from beating now and again. This voyage east is turning into less exciting-intellectual-adventure-tale and more like The Rime of the Insolvent Mariner, with the apartment being my financialbatross. I feel like one of those people who makes an income he certainly cannot complain about but has nonetheless overreached and found himself house-poor, only, in my case, without the house.
Meanwhile, the question of what I should do about my car turned out to generate a lot of opinions from people, even spilling over into the comments field of another blog. As I noted, it is interesting that before, people were telling me how I wouldn't need a car in Cambridge so long as I got a place that was close to campus and/or the Red Line. Then, after I commit to spending more than I had planned to have an apartment that is really close to everything, people are telling me that it would be a mistake not to bring my car with me. Those supporting the latter view know how to make a cogent case, emphasizing especially if I were to ever entertain any aspirations of, say, dating anyone in the Cambridge/Boston area, going there without a car would be about as damaging to my prospects as stapling a gnarly-looking rhino horn to my forehead. Fabulous.
Says Ann: "Close-to-Harvard apartment + car = the belt and suspenders of seduction." What does this metaphor mean? I used to own a pair of suspenders, but I have no idea where they are these days. I just wear a belt. Wouldn't that imply that just having an apartment close to Harvard should be enough? Then again, there is a fairly obvious retort to that, I suppose. But aren't the whole point of suspenders that you don't have to wear a belt? Or, is the idea of the metaphor that they complement each other, so you have a pants-altitude-control-solution for every situation?
In any case, all this makes me think that in my recent post on Song Lyrics That Mean A Lot To Me, I should have included "If you don’t have a car and you’re walking--oh yes, son, I’m talking to you" from TLC, "No Scrubs."