I really feel like New York is the Queen of endurance tests. She'll keep throwing things at you and because you're in her power, you accept it all. Whatever crap is goin on, I'm always saying, "Well at least I'm in New York!" But at what point does this stop being worth it?
22 March. I'm all over this city like a growing rash. Last night I slept in SoHo, Greenpoint before that, a spell in Harlem, and now tonight I'm back in Prospect Heights. I'm running out of couches. My stuff is spread out across Brooklyn and Manhattan and these days I never walk out the door without my toothbrush. Jolie just gave me an I-Ching reading and my future was 'The Wanderer'. "Your home is the open road." it said. "It bloody well is not!" I immediately replied. I'm doing everything I can to prove against this prophecy. I'm trawling through Craigslist every morning and night and throwing out emails like tickertape from a departing ship. I've seen so many apartments and have met so many prospective roommates -I've just read Malcolm Gladwell's 'Blink' and have been practicing my snap judgements with each of them. You have to have a really good sense for people, and a hyper-sensitive radar for crazies. They say finding an apartment is one of the hardest things in New York City. I am really feeling it.
26 March. Ellen says: "Finding the right apartment is like finding the right boyfriend. Don't settle for less than what you want and BE PATIENT. Eventually the right one will come along and make it all worthwhile." I burst out laughing and she replied, "You don't want a boyfriend without a window now, DO YOU?"
2 April. Each time someone asks if I've found a place yet, I have to quickly turn away so they can't see me on the verge of tears. Applying for housing here is worse than applying for a job. I reached a major low point last Sunday when another apartment fell through and I had to call someone I barely knew to ask if I could sleep on his couch. On the subway ride over I broke down and shed a few sorry tears. It was late, I was exhausted, and I was embarrassed to be asking strangers for help. Caleb had offered his place a few weeks earlier, when I was still naively positive and didn't think I'd actually need it. He has a beautiful home in Brooklyn Heights which is a stone's throw from one of the best-looking views of Manhattan. My tears dried up quicksmart when I found his handsome brownstone where I'd be staying for the next 4 days. Oh the rollercoaster ride which is NYC.
11 April. I'm moving to Greenpoint! I've found a place at last! My little room has its own private entrance, hardwood floors and two tall windows overlooking the street. We have a garden with a clothesline and sunflowers, and there's the most beautiful tree-filled park a block away. However, we have to pay a broker's fee and the apartment is tiny for what it's worth. And although my room has lots of light, the rest of the place is really dark. I'm nervous to be spending so much on something I don't completely love, but it's time I just lock down a place and nest for awhile. No place is perfect and you just have to start SOMEWHERE. I've been looking and waiting long enough and I know I can make any place cozy and nice. It will be so great to have all my things in one place at last! My future is finally about to begin.
21 April. BED BUGS. Our new apartment has bedbugs! It has been reported 4 times in the past year on the Bedbug Registry (a service I didn't even know existed until I happened to google our address!) and this morning I found one in my bed. Round, fat and drunk on my blood. According to NY State law the landlord or broker HAS to inform you if an apartment has had bedbugs in the past year. I'm furious we weren't told. There's NO WAY I would've moved into a high risk bedbug infested place. It's a major epidemic here, especially during the summers. Everyone I know that's had bedbugs describes it as "the worst time of my life". You have to throw furniture and mattresses out, wash everything else in hot water, bleach whatever you can, and get the fuck out. Relationships have ended over bedbugs. They are really hard to get rid of! Fumigating your apartment does not guarantee success. Bedbugs can hide in the tiniest of cracks and lay dormant for a year without feeding. And that's not even talking about their eggs! I'm moving out. My roommates want to stay. They think they can fight the problem and maybe they can. But I haven't moved all my things in yet, and I haven't bought any furniture. I don't want to risk it. I'm washing my suitcase of clothes tonight and I'm getting back on my homeless treadmill. I'd rather be homeless than have bedbugs!
23 April. Easter in New York. The weather is warm at last and everyone is smiling on the street. I'm safely housed in a friend of a friend's apartment in Boerum Hill and I'm feeling positive about the future. I saw a sweet, cheap room in Fort Greene today with 3 lovely, charming characters. It's not exactly what I'm after, although the price and location are undeniably good. I've learnt my lesson about settling for less than what I want. Leah has given me a lead to the apartment below hers and I'm checking it out this week. Its huge and full of light, in my perfect location, and in my price range! And my friends live upstairs! I'm a little nervous taking on the responsibility of a whole new apartment, but everything about it feels right.
1 May. What a whirlwind week!!! I signed the lease on that apartment yesterday morning and by the evening had found 3 charming new roommates (4 if you include the part time dog!). I LOVE MY NEW APARTMENT. It's strange to think about all those times I stayed in Leah's apartment upstairs, practically weeping about my housing situation and wondering if I would ever find something as special as theirs! Little did we know that one flight below the landlord was scraping back layers of pink and purple and green paint, polishing the hardwood floors, ripping out kitchen benches and installing new bathtubs. It was all about waiting for the right time.
I'm thinking of that little fat bedbug a week ago, wriggling it's legs in the palm of my hand and me thinking this city is one crazy bitch. (It's true. She is.) But if you can endure enough of her shit, in the end she'll give you exactly what you want. Sometimes more than what you could even imagine.
the kitchen & dining (before they put in a new oven and fridge!)
my new bedroom (with studio space!)
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