NEW BLOG!
I know, I have changed it three times, but my future roommate convinced me that Wordpress is a better host for blogs than Tumblr, and she has a point. Apparently you can comment on here and it gives you the date on the entries, an archive etc…Anyway, back to blogging.
Maybe I’ll use this as a real tumblr? Who knows….
In this city, every experience gets you points toward ultimately becoming a “legit” New Yorker. I’ve said it so many times, but it’s true. It’s like a video game. You have to pass levels. First you have to get your foot in (internship) then you have to push, shove or shimmy the rest of yourself through the opening until you are squished between the door frame and the door (entry-level paying job). Then you have to jump through several fire hoops, while walking on a tight rope, 4000 feet off the ground, while balancing a very breakable vase with all your money in it on your head (finding an apartment). I’m about to pass that level!
I kept hearing terror stories about brokers (think “Here ‘s Johnny!”). Therefore, I half expected to be legally bound to provide limbs as security deposits, and 15% of my life in fees. Turns out, I just had to pay with limbs! Yes, you will pay what your parents are paying for their mortgage on their beautiful house next to a lake in Georgia, or something like that. This is the number one thing you have to come to terms with. You won’t find anything in mid or lower Manhattan that is bigger than 1.3 square feet for below $3000 a month. Brooklyn and Astoria are cheaper but also farther. It comes down to either space, or commute time. We chose space. So, we are moving in with the hipsters in Williamsburg!
Dealing with brokers is not that bad. Some of them are actually really nice. Overall, it’s just an exhausting experience, but it feels so good once you find an awesome place!
(Disclaimer: I was living in New York when I started looking for apartments. Not being in the city and trying to get a place, that really must be equivalent to The Shining. Kudos to all who have accomplished that. Extra points for you guys)
Honestly, I just feel like an intern who is very conscious of the fact that I now have more responsibility. It’s been a strange process, but I’m loving it. Aside the points above, I learned a plethora of facts about the brand I’m on. Based on my first week as a professional in the advertising industry, I’m pretty sure I picked the right career. Apartment shopping, on the other hand, has not been a fun full-time activity. It really is as exhausting and time consuming as a second job! Last week I had dreams about Craigslist listings. I am happy to say, however, that in my To Do list for tomorrow, one of the points is ”Read and sign lease!” More on the above development tomorrow. Right now, I aim to get some well-deserved Craigslist-free rest.
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Michael Jordan (probably with the help of a brilliant copywriter at Wieden+Kennedy) Either way, truth. |
The Starbucks on Montague St., Brooklyn is far less crowded than any in Manhattan. So I subwayed my way down here to borrow their complementary internet and search for housing/be on Facebook. After 2 hours of calling owners and no-fee-brokers, and having a 1% response rate—seriously 1 out of 10 answered, and that one told me their apartment had already been rented out—I made my way down to the Brooklyn Promenade to search for inspiration.
How am I supposed to settle for less now? Living in Brooklyn Heights this summer has set a ridiculous standard for my future living arrangements. I am looking to live here:
With a view to this:
All I want is 2 bedrooms, and a bathroom. A dishwasher would be nice, and laundry inside the apartment itself would be FANTASTIC! I could live in a place with a chimney, in a nice area, with quick access to the subway and at most a 15-minute commute to Manhattan. And I’ll throw in a pony at this point, I know.
Maybe I’ll set this as my dream place for a few years down the road. Right now, I need a reasonably-priced place where I won’t get mugged and from where I can get to Manhattan, somehow… Ok. Back to Starbucks for more coffee and maybe a bit more luck.
Not 20 minutes had passed after my plane landed, and I was already putting out a fire while struggling with my two 50 pound suitcases, a 20 pound backpack and my Mary Poppins purse (undoubtedly weighing at least another 8 pounds). As I was on hold, I told the cabbie to take me to 9th and 34th, to which he replied with the amount of the fare, “$50 plus tip.” Before I could acknowledge (and be a little proud of) my immunity and familiarity with these common wallet harassments of the city, I was back on the phone dealing with my possibly-cancelled housing. (It turned out to be a misunderstanding. They said I didn’t confirm my modified check-in date. I did. Twice). I carried the 128 pounds of my life that were strategically stuffed within my suitcases, backpack and purse, up the stairs and decided to procrastinate on unpacking. Instead I went to find a bank-account-friendly meal and ate it in a park, while ponderously looking out onto the Hudson and thinking about life, change, and how crazy it all is.
My first memory of a park is one in Providencia, a district in the city of Santiago, Chile. I remember going there with my grandma (ca. 1990) and feeding, then chasing pigeons. (I took great pleasure in scaring those dumb-looking birds. Not maliciously, but it was fun)! If I had frozen that moment in time, and projected what I thought that little girl’s life would be like, I would have failed miserably in telling my actual story.
Even as a 13 year old, when I spoke fake-English with my brothers in Argentina (because we didn’t know how to speak the actual language, but we still wanted to sound cool like those people on TV) I would have never guessed my experiences to come.
And here I am. Currently invaded by the incessant sound of sirens and honking in a diminutive room in Midtown Manhattan. [End ponderous rant]
While thinking about my past, I witnessed a man in his underpants, pacing back and forth in this park, occasionally pausing and raising his face and arms to the sky. Later, as I walked along the heat reflecting sidewalks, the familiar, pungent odor of God-knows-what assaulted my nostrils. At this point, I couldn’t help but smile and I mentally welcomed myself to this fast paced, stress filled, crazy-people abundant, smelly affair. And I honestly couldn’t ask for a better way to start my post-college life.
I’m back, New York, and ready to keep up with you.
To read about my NYC summer adventure:
http://mariaparayaz.tumblr.com/
