Okay. So. I feel like a gigantic idiot. Two days after I launched the “About Us” on this blog I received an email from our landlord. She informed us that there will not be a renewal of the lease and we have just one month to find a new place to live. There was intent to renew on both parties, but there is a family emergency and they need to have the apartment available for this reason. Enter- heartbreak, shock, hysterics, betrayal and anger. You might be thinking I am being a little bit dramatic here, but I’ve thought it over- I’m not. Moving here was really scary. Not scary because I was entering a new place, or because I might not be able to afford it, or because its New York City (okay, maybe a little bit of NYC-scary in there) I was scared because it was GO TIME. I finally had found a man who loved me as much as I loved him. I had a sense of security, I figured if I was with Joe, everything would be okay. I was ready to stop working only to barely pay my bills, going out to eat 5 times a week and shopping every other day. I was prepared to grow up. To start a career for myself (or try to figure out what I’d like to do) In a nutshell- I wanted to make myself, Joe, and my family proud.
We turned this apartment into our first home. Painted every single room the perfect color (after many trips to lowes and debating) found a home for all my wall hangings and a shelf for every knick knack. Organized the cubbard and cabinets in such a precise way, sometimes even I think I’m on the verge of insanity. Our families bought us housewarming gifts, we bought ourselves a brand new couch because the one we had didn’t fit up our steps. The first plant I’ve ever been able to keep alive has flourished in our hallway (her name is Liza Manelli!) Our love has grown astronomically within these walls. We are two different people then we were one year ago. Pippen was brought home here, We are comfortable. I (creepily) have thought about maybe one day, if we get married and have a baby, we can move the tv and couch into our small bedroom and turn our living room into a bedroom/nursey. It felt so right. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I was at home. We treated this apartment gently, made it ours. Every single person that has entered has loved it, said they felt at home. I am very proud of that. We couldn’t help but wonder- had we done something to piss them off? There is no way. Joe shoveled the snow during the storm. We were never loud (except for one party, which we not only warned them about- but also INVITED THEM!) We were never late on rent, not even once. Our apartment was under 60 degrees half of the winter, but I was too nervous to ask them to crank the heat. We still don’t have a doorknob on our bedroom door, we let them use our internet connection (dig this, we received an actual phone call for that one) Thats all really okay, it is. But we worked our butts off to live here. We have paid them a lot of money. Our choice, I know, but this apartment was *way* over budget from day one. I’d like to assume they always knew that as well. To be tossed aside with no preparation for said toss, hurt. A lot. I am struggling because although I know this isn’t earth shaking news- and happens to a lot of people, it felt very unfair to me. I want to keep a home, this home.
Since I have been 12 years old, I have moved every year of my life. Every, year. Belongings and furniture of mine are spread across NJ and NY, in attics, basements, scattered. I hate it. I usually was nothing more then a nomad, I couldn’t stop bouncing and to be honest, I was exhausted. I finally had something stable behind me, to support me to move forward and become the person I was meant to be. I thought I was on my way. Then, a whole lot of bad stuff went down in April. My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, I lost one of my dearest friends in the world, Stinky had a dramatic visit to the ER (resulting in bad news), we are broke even though we both work out butts off. I was in a hole of depression, I’m not proud of that. I had to leave work early a few times because I couldn’t be the “happy girl behind counter” and I cried, a lot. Joe was there for me. He literally just sat next to me with open arms. The punches came one after the next and I was at the point where I asked myself “Geez, what’s next?” The night before we got the boot, Joe and I were sitting in the living room talking, I told him I finally felt both feet on the ground. I felt a calm, that I hadn’t experienced in weeks. It made me really happy. The next day, I was having a good day, then I got the email.
We originally thought we could fight this. Maybe there were laws to protect us? So we wouldn’t be forced out into the street so fast. We had no warning, a month! thats NOTHING. After calling Joe, my parents, and emailing my Gibbah’s, I got to googling NYC rental laws, talked to a few of my lawyer friends, asked handfuls of my regulars if they knew of any apartments in the area. Fail, fail, fail. Apartments are so tough to come by, and be happy with. We really just don’t want to leave our area. We’re in our dream apartment in the perfect location. Or are we? Our bills are piled up, we stress about spending every single day. I don’t shop anymore, because I can’t. Not even for clothes necessarily, but for food, housewares, art supplies, and clothes, too (obv) But really- we are sort of struggling. We are only 26 years old, we’re both smart, responsible and well groomed creatures. Should it really still be this hard?
At first when I would talk to friends about it I got the typical “Oh, it must be a blessing in disguise! everything will be great!” responses. From adults (you know, the real ones, not us!) I got quick recaps of their horror stories and how it turned out to be better in the end. Our oh-so-generous landlords sent a few apartment listings to us for places in not so desirable neighborhoods and STUDIOS! there are four mammals living up here, we CANNOT fit into a studio. It was quite frustrating. I just wanted to scream out “IM EXHAUSTED. I CAN’T IMAGINE MOVING AGAIN! PLEASE, LET ME BE SAD FOR AT LEAST A WEEK ABOUT THIS.” Instead, I nodded and gave out a smile and Thank You (admittedly, Joe got a bit of the whiny schpeal) After a few days, I turned around. I started getting excited thinking about a new start. Maybe with more storage and a full sized refrigerator. Then, it got better. I had been talking to one of my best friends about moving to NYC. We briefly sighed and wished we could live together at some point in our lives, but me being an old bat (aka in love) closed that chapter. Then Joe and I started playing with the idea of a roommate, to make ends meet a little easier. A lightbulb went off, LIZ! We conversed immediately- let me get to the point- she is part of our apartment hunt.
This blog is about to get switched up a bit. We aren’t comfortable here in Brooklyn anymore. Also, we will soon have a roommate (Three’s Company?) and another kitty cat. We couldn’t be happier. Now, back to craigslist we go. Or, does anyone have any Brooklyn leads?
