Friday, March 19, 2010

Oh, Hello Spring.

Brooklyn is absolutely gorgeous.
On walking to my cafe today (yes I did say my cafe. That's not to imply I own, control or in anyway have proper right to refer to it as my cafe, but it's as much mine as something can be and not actually peeing on it.) Anyway, while walking to my cafe I realized two things, first that it had been AGES since I updated my Blog. I'm afraid I don't have a good excuse for not updating sooner (unless of course you count having to go to IKEA, Recover from a Korean brought on hangover and new apartment hunting as worthy reasons). The second thing that I realized is that there's really no proper way to convey to you the weather right now.
There's a nice breeze out today that exists only in thought, not in actual form and it's just warm enough that if you walk in the shade you're delightfully lukewarm. Lukewarm as you should know, if you're to continue reading this is my favorite temperature. As a child, before discovering the concept of thermodynamic, I used to spend a good deal of time adjusting the taps in the bathroom to achieve that perfect water temperature and then line up cups to contain this wonderful water that felt like nothing, to save it for another day. Really though, I've done a crap job at describing to you how wonderful the temperature is outside, just take my word for it that if you're not here sitting next to me, you're missing out.

This gets me on another topic that I've been meaning to mention. The weather in Brooklyn>The weather in Manhattan. Whenever I leave my apartment I'm usually comfortable. However, no matter how prepared I am, the moment I step out of the subway and onto the street, whether to go to Hunter or just for my occasional forays into the concrete jungle, the weather is suddenly ramped up on steroids. Blistery cold, Horribly windy, Jungle hot. It never makes any sense. Manhattan clearly is a menopausal woman in desperate need of some plant estrogen.

Now obviously at this point you're begging me to stop rambling about menopause and the weather and how much of a dim, yet adorable child I was and get to the topic that you're all desperate to know more about: the news that I'm moving, again.

I'm afraid to say, even with access to a potentially wonderful backyard garden (stress the potential part), my cafe literally being 2 blocks down the street, the same cafe right near my laundromat, which means I can partake in Sangria Sundays while doing a load of wash, and even the wonderful smell of fried chicken wafting through the air, I am indeed still planning on moving.

You see my dear readers. I (and another girl, Claire), sublet from someone, when we originally came to visit and see the place we both were told that while this someone's boyfriend frequently was over, he had his own place in Flatbush, and was decidedly NOT a resident of the apartment. Quel Surprise, a month and a half later he hasn't slept at "his" place a single night. More so, we're now paying Manhattan Prices, for Manhattan-sized Space (the space divided by 4, not three) and basically going along for the traumatic ride of feeling like we're awkward groupies to a honeymoon. I, of course won't mention the fact that they're rediculously loud, I hear them every, single night, my ceiling and wall leaks like a bubbling waterfall in the rain and that I have to share a bathroom and shower with two people who regularly like to have group showers together, no I won't mention any of that, that would be petty.
Having come to one of those grand moments of OMG YOU TOO?! with Claire we have both decided to give notice on the 1st of April that we're moving out and we're currently searching for a 2 Bedroom place. So far our quest has produced some gorgeous albeit impractical results. Picture Pre-war apartment with bedrooms the size of a small house, for $1325. However the second bedroom had awkward glass doors, which made it more of a study off of the living room and less of an actual bedroom. Alas, there'll be more.

Suffice to say if you have two arms and legs and live within walking distance of a car, subway station or my old or future apartment, don't plan anything for the end of April, there's going to be beer and pizza and wonderfully light furniture to carry. I'm a big fan of blow up furniture, and so everything I own is light, ridiculously light and not heavy at all. I promise. You should probably bring a car if you have one, no reason in particular, just because I like cars, big spacious cars, with fold down backseats and strong people inside them, they're my favorite.

1 comment:

  1. I won't be there in late April, but in early May I'm all yours!