caught in the door and caught in the spotlight

there are a few differences between life in suburbia and life in the city that necessitate the uptake of previously unnecssary adaptations, and in some cases, precautions.
for instance, our apartment door has no door lock. instead there is an electronic device that recognizes fingerprints. it is quite nifty, very novel, and even has a limited vocabulary in a woman's voice: "the door is open," "the door is closed," and when you're having a particularly fingerprintless day, "operation failure." i've heard that a lot these past few days, "operation failure" (the demmed machine hates me). now, the only door to the apartment (and the only other door, for that matter) that utilizes a key in a keyhole to lock and unlock the door is the back door, in the kitchen. however, i don't know how to get to it from the outside, and i don't have the key anyway. so, frequently, i am forced to stand outside the front door with my finger that fails to initiate the door-opening operation until someone else comes home or opens the door from the inside. my mother and cousin warned me that if your finger is too cold or not moist enough, it cannot read your fingerprint. so, as finger preparation for the operation initiation, i breathe on my finger a few times before placing it on the sensor.

yesterday, after my shower, i went to my room to clothe myself. i had just finished putting on my pajamas when my dad said from the other side of the door "mei, don't forget to close the curtains before you change." "uh oh..." this has never before been a problem. there is no one to look into my bedroom window back at the cincinnati house, not to mention the windows are too small, and my room too big, that if you did look inside, you probably wouldn't see me at all. my room here, fortunately, and unfortunately has a huge window, and the neighboring apartment building is no more than a swimming pool's length away. "i don't know you," my mother said. "but soon everyone who lives over there will." said my father. and i was left thinking, "i hope the dark windows are indicative of sleeping occupants in those respective rooms."