My train of thought derailed once again. If you are wondering about my new digs, let me say that I got up on Tuesday morning, looked at a third apartment, and took it. I now live on the Upper West Side, on the cusp of Morningside Heights. The location is great - I have my bank on the corner, a Ben and Jerry’s a few blocks over, lots of grocery stores everywhere, a post office, copy shop, jazz bar/lounge, etc.
I will eventually live with three other women, but currently have two housemates. Kathy is the primary renter. She’s a 76 year old West Indian immigrant. Don’t laugh! She’s great. She’s the kind of feisty old woman who would fight off a mugger with her bare hands and a crocheted headwrap. When Kathy heard that I had a yucky apartment in Hamilton Heights, she let me crash in another room of her apartment for free until my room was vacant. This speaks volumes about her. My other housemate is Chen, an international student from Beijing who has just finished a master’s degree in financial something or other. Chen is also very sweet, and we’re even planning on going to a museum together on Thursday. So, yes, agreeable housemates.
If you know anything about NYC, you know that the housing situation is ridiculous. It is extremely expensive. Neighborhoods fluctuate between nice and safe to crappy and dangerous by a few blocks. I now have the overall best living situation I could have. Well, I wouldn’t mind if I had a bulldog for a housemate or I got the chance to live in a Soho loft for the price of one blog entry a day, but seriously… I have a washer and dryer in my kitchen! That’s an incredible find. I have a nice room where all utilities are included, except internet. (Darling internet, you are worth every hard-earned penny)! I live in a room with tasteful matching furniture. I have a ceiling fan. (Time to ooh and ahh, people).
I’ve moved up by moving down[town].
ooh ahh!