I know I said I was staying put, but then the rent went up and I started looking around.
The pickings were slim, as always given that it’s NYC, but I kept looking. It seemed like a good opportunity to press RESET, perhaps lower my rent and maybe even go back to Manhattan. As I’ve said, I love Williamsburg, but the L train occasionally challenges my sanity. It would also be nice to have more friends closer to home.
I saw a few “one bedrooms” that were actually studios with a funny wall built to awkwardly break up the space. Like this.
That seems to be the trick of the moment. Years ago, before NYC realtors used the internet much for posting their listings, tricks included not telling you the apartment location and making you meet them on a nearby corner (so you wouldn’t try to see the apartment independently and avoid their broker’s fee).
Then I saw one apartment that was a possibility. Continue reading
While doing some comparison shopping, I came across this bit of hilarity.
How many paupers do you know that can spend close to $3000 on monthly rent?
A real pauper would instead consider this room in Nolita which is gently priced at $395 per month. Of course, it’s also disgusting.
Now you see how I keep coming back to the I’m Staying Put conclusion.
I noticed the buildings pictured recently on my way home from work and thought “Not all walk-ups are created equal.”
I’m grateful for my elevator. Some of these walk-ups aren’t even cheaper.
As promised yesterday, here is my Houseguest of Horror story.
I was 22 years old. Maybe 23, but probably 22. An acquaintance from back home in Pennsylvania got in touch to say that she and another friend were coming to NYC. Could they crash with me?
Sure, I assume I said. I was young, rash and not set in my ways as I am now.
I might also have wanted to show off my cool Gramercy Park apartment, a large studio with a separate sleeping loft that functioned as my bedroom. It even had a closet up there. The building has been renovated and turned into fancy condos now.
The acquaintance and her friend, a big burly dude, had me meet them at Peculier Pub. When I arrived, they were already drunk. Drunk enough that I started feeling nervous about them being my house guests.
We can fast forward to the important part of this story because the details are both fuzzy and unimportant. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning, I awakened to find the male guest peeing all over my bathroom floor in a drunken stupor.
I was horrified – OBVIOUSLY – but not intimidated for some reason. I kicked them out. I didn’t care that it was sometime around 5 am and where would they go. Nope. Out. I yelled my head off, angry and grossed out until they left.
Adding insult to injury, the female acquaintance told our mutual friend, and anyone else who would listen, how I kicked them out, somehow managing to spin the story in her favor. She never apologized either.
Thanks for bringing back this awful memory, Apartment Therapy.
Apartment Therapy, one of my favorite sites, recently asked the question “Overnight Guests: Can You Just Say No?” prompting me to think back on a house guest incident I’ll tell you about tomorrow.
The post featured thoughts from Erin Boyle who keeps a blog called Reading My Tea Leaves. Erin and her husband live in a 250 square foot apartment (!!) here in NYC which helps inform her opinion on house guests.
In this case, the comments below the post really added to the discussion. Some posters couldn’t imagine saying no to a house guest, ever. Others, however, were shocked that people would invite themselves to stay.
My perspective is colored by the fact that I have lived in cities my entire adult life. I have not had a guest room ever and my couch doesn’t pull out.
When I was younger, I probably hosted more people than I do now. Having a house guest in close quarters is, well, tiring. Cleaning, ensuring all of my best linens are washed and waiting, and most importantly, the change in my routine. On weekends, I really enjoy being lazy, sleeping in and keeping my schedule loosely organized.
There are some friends, of course, for whom I’d drop everything to host them.
How do you feel about house guests?
And yes, the headline makes me think of this movie clip.
There will always be complaints about New York City: that it’s too gritty, that is too cleaned up, something.
I don’t think so.
Change is painful, but inevitable.
Other posts about life in NYC:
Remember when I told you that I miss my garbage disposal most? I miss my washer/dryer too.
In New York, it’s a tremendous luxury to have a washer/dryer in your apartment. Even paying $1 million to buy an apartment doesn’t mean you’ll have that amenity. In fact, the building might not even have a laundry room!
Here’s one example: Continue reading
This apartment building.
Not what you were expecting. I do love real estate, that you know.
These apartments are only slightly more expensive than mine and they have the washer-dryer IN unit.
And it’s so much closer to my favorite coffee shop.
But I’m staying put. Hope my current apartment doesn’t mind my little mental love affair.