Crib Notes.

My parents and I drove down to Stamford on Friday to move into the new apartment. In light of my recent housing debacle, I didn't know what to expect of the new pad. But as it turns out, it's phatter than Fat Mike. 2 floors: a kitchen, dining room, living room, and half bath on the first; two bedrooms and a full bath on the second. Fresh paint and carpets, central air, all the amenities. Awesome. There's plenty of room, and anyone who wants to visit (except Dick Cheney, Satan, and the members of Nickelback) is more than welcome.

So the apartment is great, and Stamford seems to be a nice place. But I don't start my new job until next Tuesday, so I have a week off. Sounds good, but this week could be long, since I know no one in the Stamford area. I do know some people in New York, but they're all working (I hung out with Fariha on Sunday though, which was a lot of fun). The plan: explore the area, pimp out the apartment (difficult given my limited means), and read.

Today's project was exploration. I decided to ride my bike (i.e., my dad's old bike) down to a beach at Cove Island Park (maybe 3 or 4 miles from my apartment). I packed up my bag and hit the road, excited to be on my own and experiencing a new and different place. But maybe a mile or two into the ride, my front tire popped. I had no choice but to shamefully walk my bike back to my apartment. What a buzzkill. I ended up shopping (necessary but lame), and I'm resolving to do something cooler tomorrow, like write "The Bonfire of the Vanities" or become the Pope.

Pics of the new apartment to come soon, once the place is set up a bit better.

Welcome to the lovely and always amusing Lucy Orloski, the newest contributor to The Haberdasher.

And here are the 2005 World Beard and Moustache Champions: