Sorry if I’ve ignored your texts. Or if I’ve been a monster. Perhaps you noticed I am over reacting to the smallest details (why is there never slow churned cookies and cream at CVS anymore!?!). It’s not you and it’s not me (well partially it is), but really, it’s the Manhattan housing market.
ON FINDING AN APARTMENT:
As my time in my mouse-infested apartment began to come to an end, the optimist in me was ready to get to work, get the computer out and search the whole big apple for my next destination. I didn’t want much, just a home where I could return to from work and relax. My dreams expanded to an Instagramable palace of hanging plant life and marble furnishings. I was optimistic in April. I was slightly disappointed in May. Now peppy Mer can’t come to the phone right now.... she’s dead.
Now I’ve had some pretty interesting living situations in my past so I figured my housing experience could only improve. My first year of college I was randomly placed in one of the only two all-women’s residential hallways in the WHOLE campus. If someone with a Y chromosome passed by he was A. very lost and confused by the concept of the masterfully titled “virgin vault,” or B. actively seeking us out. It was often scenario A. Then there was a nice silver fish infestation senior year and some more fun in between. Then I graduated college and put the past behind me. I was ready to start my mature living situation in the big apple.
Come 3 months later and there’s a pungent stench coming from outside my front door on the upper east side. Afraid of what died, my roommate and I agreed we’d face this together. We opened our door to what appeared to be the trash we had so nicely placed in the basement only hours earlier. I say appeared because it only slightly resembled what we deposited; this heap was ravaged by a madman, aka our super. Beside the bag there was a note left on the culprit, a used napkin, stating, “you didn’t recycle correctly.” I wish I could say this was the only time this happened. I still to this day am confused if tissues are recyclable if they have been used. Please let me know.
So okay. Nothing is perfect, certainly not New York. I think it’s the chaotic glamour that keeps us going. So, to get rid of some of the things I hated about the housing market (aka the broker’s fee), I decided to try some new apps to find a room in an existing apartment and/or a new roommate.
ON FINDING A ROOMMATE:
Living in New York is insanely expensive and as much as I want to find a studio I am only looking for a one-year lease, so paying the attached broker’s fee doesn’t make much sense. Also any studio I can afford can barely fit a bed and a full refrigerator, so naturally I decided to pay less and get more for my buck. This means finding a roommate.
I also happen to be a bit of a good luck chuck so I keep dropping roommates left and right. In fact, at this point, I’m convinced, if you move in with me you will find your person, it’s pretty much a guarantee. Just ask my first roommate (engaged), and my second (had never dated anyone until she decided to live with me). They just moved in together. Magical.
In the past I’ve been very lucky in the housing market in the fact that I’ve always known someone who is moving around the same time as me, unlike now. So, in this very unfamiliar scenario to me, I did what I had to do, and went to social media. After feeling dejected on Facebook (receiving only likes on my “I need a roommate status,” and a shameless website plug from my sister), I went to roommate finding apps. A very kind coworker reminded me to make the most of this experience. “You’ll meet new people. How fun!”
The first apartment I went to view seemed to be alright. It had 3 girls, one bathroom, (not ideal and kind of sounds like a bad movie plot, you can decide which genre), but hey it’s doable. Then the questions came. When I told her I like to cook (we are talking very basic here), she seemed to get in quite a panic. “What happens if we want to cook at the same time? We will need a system!” Hanger is a real issue, people.
Then there was the apartment where my answers were being typed word for word on an excel grid. “What can you bring to the apartment?” I have to admit this one I actually considered. It turns out that there is such a thing as apartment goggles (let’s make this phrase happen). Then there was the “I don’t bring the party home or ever girl,” who told me that me saying I wanted to have my sister over to watch a show made her very nervous. These are a few stories of many, and yes, it’s been a real blast.
ON FINDING MYSELF:
I feel like I’ve learned the good, the bad, and the ugly here. I don’t react well to change, stress and uncertainty (I guess I am human and not a monster after all!).
It’s not going to be an easy road, but sometimes things that are worthwhile are often difficult to obtain. I have to remind myself that digging into these stressful situations also requires coming up for air.
It's also important to note that some of the most beautiful things can come from less than ideal situations; in fact, I happen to have found one of my favorite people on this planet my very first day in that all girl’s hallway.
It will all be okay because like all things in life, it’s only temporary. Just like all of my housing situations prior.
Oh, and the old Mer can come to the phone. She’s still there 😊.
-na MER ste-