I thought this post would be about the fact that we're getting one here in Montreal! This section of the internet has been abuzz about it: http://www.mtlblog.com/2014/01/montreal-opens-first-ever-north-american-cat-cafe/
At my university, the part of town called "the Ghetto" actually has some of the most expensive real estate in the city--those fully-furnished high-rise buildings for undergrads that are basically glorified dorms.
It's called "affective labor": http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Affective_labor
...Wow. This hit me right in the gut. My adult life has been characterized by various degrees of deep-seated, stemming-from-childhood financial anxiety set against the backdrop of various tony academic institutions that would deign to give me enough money to allow me to be there. I am now the kind of student who gets paid to go to school, which puts me, for the first time, almost-just-barely in the "comfortable" income range. That is to say, I'm sure my yearly income would be laughable to most people with middle-class jobs, and at 30, and it's only been for the last six months of my life that I've started to feel like I can afford most of the things that I need and many of the things that I want. However, the experience of being poor has shaped me so fundamentally that I, also, feel that it is perhaps the most important thing about me. I haven't ever really felt comfortable "coming out" as poor (or now as formally poor, or culturally working class?) in any of these settings, however. I've mentioned it, and I've hinted at it, but it never really goes over very well...I think it embarrasses people. It's a very odd existence to feel that the thing that most fundamentally makes you *you* is the kind of thing that you can't share with anyone, even your good friends, because they just won't understand your reality. (It's particularly ironic in my lefty-skewing discipline, where we talk about the "affective nature of capitalism" all day long, but never in any sense that includes personal experience.) I wish that I could share this article with someone, but I literally can think of no friends from any of my networks of the fancy private schools I've attended for the past decade who would understand and appreciate this.
In what universe do these people exist that they think that 1 hour in the classroom = 1 hour of preparation? (In my limited experience, it's more like 1:10.)
@Beaks Now I want to hear about the perfect stretch wool pencil skirt!
The place where I get my shoes repaired (in Montreal) always seems to charge me $20 per visit, no matter what I need fixed or how many pairs of shoes I bring in. They do good work, it just seems like the guy who deals with all the front-of-house stuff can’t be bothered to worry about pricing. Once I figured this out, I started saving them up and bringing two or three pairs at a time...So far, still $20.
@LookUponMyWorks Replying to this thread because I, too, want to know about comfortable (yet ~moderately stylish) flats.
It's a joke amongst my friends that we have all, individually, heard each of the others having sex at some point over the decade that we've known each other. Maybe it's because we went to college/ spent our twenties living in these kinds of shifty apartment situations in New York? I didn't realize this was weird. Maybe we just all lack boundaries?
Is Chipotle fake Mexican? Sure. Is it also delicious (and cheap and filling and relatively-healthy-for-fast-food-if-you-get-lots-of-vegetables?) Absolutely. I'm half Mexican, and my husband, who is not half Mexican, actually did live in Oaxaca. We now both live in a part of the world that does *not* have Chipotle, and we make a point to eat it whenever we're back in the US. I would eat the shit out of a burrito bowl right about now. Just don't think about it as the same thing as your local taqueria.