Ummm.

This weekend was weird.

GOOD weird.

Just...real weird.

Heartwarmer and I have definitely decided to stay in our cheap, big apartment in Crown Heights. We're gonna try and find another roommate and hopefully fix things up a little and make it more homelike. It's totally a good thing too. I'm so relieved - it's a financial relief, a stress relief, and I feel like maybe I can try to be a little more like Heartwarmer in the budgeting area and hopefully save some money. I'd really like to be able to afford living alone after she leaves for the Peace Corps next year.

I have about ten thousand million zillion things on my plate at work right now and I can't focus on any of it (clearly, since I'm blogging). I can't focus on anything. I'm just, like, this total flurry of excitement. There are lots of things going on - not the least of which is the dispute over my house - but I feel like I have it all under control. I think it's partially the relief of not moving, partially a lawyer who seems optimistic and supportive, and the usual epiphany of self worth that comes with realizing that something that had previously upset and confused me had nothing to do with me whatsoever.

In light of my recent depressive episode I can't help but wonder if it's a manic episode, but then I can't help but wonder if that's just me being nervous about my dad. I also think...um...*ahem* a...uh...recent rush of oxytocin is a major contributor to my cheerful outlook (please ignore the blushing). Either way, Salty's been harping at me to find a good therapist and she's absolutely right to do so - I just unfortunately have not had the time to follow up on a list of referrals I have - I'm too buried at work!

On that note...back to the grind...

Po' Folk

I'm poor. Not by normal standards, but by New York standards. I can't afford more than $800 in rent. I've lived with $600 rent for a year now and haven't saved any money. Thanks to my long stint of unemployment, I actually accrued some debt.

Part of this, admittedly, is due to consumerism, but most of it is just plain fact. I'm poor. I've actually always been poor. I could have been not-poor in New Orleans, but I chose to support someone else. I could have been not-poor in college, but I chose to go away to school instead of staying close to home. I guess I could be not-poor now and stay in the apartment I can more-than-afford for $600 instead of moving somewhere where I pay $800.

My apartment is okay. It's not fabulous, but when I think about the hovel I lived in when I was in Lefferts it's pretty great. I mean, at least my room is big, the super is nice, and sure I have roommates, but if I choose to not see them I really don't have to. Big room. Private entrance. Roof access. Two very happy cats who get plenty of exercise running up and down the big hallway.

Yes, the kitchen being next to my room drives me batshit. And Heartwarmer is a loud chewer and doesn't clean dishes properly. Yes, nobody EVER wants to come out here. Yes, I got mugged last year. Yes, I HATE carpeting with an extraordinary, glorious passion. And I am nervous about finding a new roommate to live with us, and I hate the expensive cab rides home and I hate that I can never seem to get my room organized no matter how many organizational tools I acquire and I hate the loud people who moved in downstairs.

But it's home. For $600 a month.

Today was a momentous occasion. I actually said, "I can't wait to go home!"

Walking down Hudson Street to a new subway line for the first time I
felt a combination of calm, hope, and contentment. I haven't felt
like this since the months following my return to New Orleans, when
the world was my oyster and I was confident I could take on anything.
Before I was in a hurtful relationship. Before I was pigeonholed into
leaving my house. Before I was struggling to get afloat or new in town
or discovering single life.

I looked around me and sighed blissfully. New York finally feels like
my home!

Bruised and battered but I made it!

My arms and legs are covered in bruises. My hands feel raw and I have
a blister on my left index finger. The whorled tip of another finger
was sliced in three perfect horizontal lines by the air conditioner.
My big toe has a gash where my bed rail fell on it; don't worry
though, it's not bleeding anymore. My hip is sore from balancing
things. My back is sore from lifting them up two flights of stairs.
My neck and shoulders are all racked up from carrying entire furniture
pieces upstairs on my head.

And now, thanks to my hurrying myself out the door I get to tackle this:

Laying in bed on Sunday morning

Soft sunshine peeks through my curtains as they billow and fall in
time with the cool breeze. I love my new apartment!

Hey remember how I was in a last minute roommate crisis? Yeah...

Well the roommate thing, the lease at my new place, the money thing... It all worked out! I am now the proud leaseholder of a big three bedroom apartment in lovely Prospect Heights. As far as the roommate situation, I wound up with a two-for-one kind of deal, finding two sweet girls and sweetening the rent for me!

I’m happy to share my apartment for a little security. Living alone was good, but in the long run I think this will be better, both financially and for my peace of mind. Now if I feel afraid, which I have once or twice, I will at least know there’s someone else there. If I lose my keys I’ll have someone to let me in. If I go away I’ll have someone to feed my cats. Too much independence can be a burden unless you can afford to pay for help. And...well...I chose the high road, so roommates it is. Anyway, my bedroom is practically the size of my old apartment in Lefferts. I measured it out to a full 200 square feet.

I’m happy to report that Thinky Face said she’s only ever seen one “water bug” (whatever) there in four years, which was three years ago, and that the crack it came through had been sealed. I’d also like to brag that I have a real kitchen, not one of those tiny holes in the wall with appliances stuffed inside like sardines. And a living room. And a big bathroom. And I love it.

I also--and this might prove to be the best part--have roof access. So what has been my first order of business upon moving in? Naturally, I ‘m throwing a party! Next Saturday, the 23rd, my roof will be transformed. I hope.

Anyone know where I can rent an LCD projector cheaply?

I'm moving! I hope!

Thinky Face lived in a nice big apartment in Prospect Heights for four
years before she was selected to move in to 80/20 housing. When that
happened I asked if I could take over her lease...no broker fee, no
shitty building that I hate (!), and the potential to lower my rent
like a ton!

We talked to her landlord and got it all set to go; now all I had to
do was find a roommate.

The task proved more difficult than originally expected. I showed and
nobody bit except a pair of girls who are much younger than I'd prefer
to live with. I showed again. Still nobody. It's a nice place. It's
close to the Brooklyn Museum. It has a big kitchen, lots of windows,
and it's very spacious by New York standards. No? No one?

I'm showing again tonight, but move in day is August 10, just five
days away! If I don't find someone tonight I'm going to be out of
luck this time around and I just can't afford another broker fee, even
with a couple months before my lease ends.

Maybe I should become a broker. Then I'd only have to work like two
hours a day for the same money. Dirty parasites.

Every New Yorker's worst nightmare. Again.

I need to move.

This realization came to a head as I came home last night to the shrieking sounds of really bad jazz music emanating from apartment 1F at concert volume. As I checked my mail a dude banged on the front door and yelled for me to let him in. By New York standards that isn't so bad, but on top of the neglectful management, lazy (and insane) super, bug sightings and disrespectful tenants it really got to me. I pretended not to hear him and shuffled upstairs and home. I greeted the cats with, "Okay, number one, number two... It's time to go."

So I'm looking into a new place, and this time I'm ready to sacrifice creature comforts like living alone for more important features, like safety and a building that doesn't make me feel like it's a disaster waiting to happen. $2000 buys a lot more for two than $1000 does for one.

On craigslist there seem to be some reasonable options in decent neighborhoods...the main thing is having the time to go check them out. This is the suckiest part about living in New York, to me, finding an apartment. It's not really that difficult to find a place (as evidenced by me winding up in Lefferts), it's just difficult to find THE place, the one that makes you happy to hang your hat there.

Other people I know pay a lot more for their Manhattan abodes. $1200 seems to be the low, with Cousin JM topping the list at $2250 for her West Village cubby hole.

If not for Penny and Lu, I might consider a tiny cubby of my own somewhere in Harlem or on the Upper East Side. I could do it, with a roommate or four. I could make something work for $1000 a month. I might even be able to live further downtown than that. Would I be happy though?

I actually think I would. I probably wouldn't ever be home anyway...I'm not now. I'd probably spend less time commuting and more time running home to change before going out. I might not have a couch, but at least I'd have the City That Doesn't Sleep as my front yard.

The main reason I can see to stay in Brooklyn is more space for less dough. But I didn't move to New York City to be a farmer, I moved here to be where the action is and to experience the craziness of the big city. I don't want to schlep home late on a Saturday night for three hours on the train, I want to take a cab for ten bucks and be there in fifteen minutes. I want to meet up with friends in neighborhood bars. I want to the sirens and traffic to sing me to sleep.

I want this very badly. But $650 a week (before taxes) is just not enough for that.

Someday... Until I can count on $1500 a month for rent though I will continue to count my blessings. I have a good job on a good show with great people. I have some really sweet friends. And of course I have my lover, New York City.