#479

Weekend Round-Up

This is a post about dreams or aspirations, depending on how you look at such things.

I left Upstate mid-afternoon Thursday, and drove the scenic route to NYC. I reached the really beautiful part around 5 PM, and drove while entranced by fly fisherman up to their chests in water, throwing perfect casts in the waning sun. I reached my parents' house by 7:30, and Tom and my mother devised an ingenious way to store about a third of our wedding gifts on top of an old wardrobe. I am beginning the move out of my Upstate apartment and down to the city in dribs and drabs, casting off parts of myself first in one apartment and then another. Dinner was crepes with bacon, mushrooms, and gruyere cheese; an arugula salad; and baba ghanoush, Boursin cheese, crackers, and puffed pita. My mother was less than pleased with her menu, but I thought it wonderful. She has a knack for throwing together simple, elegant dinners. While she may protest that she cannot cook (one of the many lies my mother has told me), she sure has a palate. Oh, and a generous spirit. She bought me these boots. I'm wearing them right now.



On Friday, Tom helped me work on my business school project (logo below). We met up with the Blog Sidekick, who treated us to a rad dinner and ridiculous espresso brownie sundae at the new 5 Napkin Burger. Tom and I are still smiling from her generosity. We are concocting schemes in which she cooks us dinner next year and we provide entertainment. We love you, Blog Sidekick!

Up early on Saturday to scope out an apartment, courtesy of an insider tip. (Sadly, no pictures.) We grabbed chocolate croissants and coffee before heading to my brother's place for a kiddie beat-down, courtesy of Full Throttle and La Belle Cutie. We ditched working on our respective projects and walked down the Upper West Side, periodically stopping at all of the big box stores that have opened up. (Love us or hate us?) Oh, and we ate pork dumplings from a dumpling truck as truck food is the new fancy in NYC.

4 years in a long distance relationship can make you feel like you've entered an arranged marriage. You go with your gut that you picked the right person, but it feels like a small miracle when you realize how much you have in common. For instance, Tom and I both agreed that the apartment we had just seen was dark, and we wanted light. (Although I argued that the apartment's huge balcony brought in a fair amount of light.) We also agreed that "brownstone" is usually codeword for "dump." Living in a larger building seemed to fit us more, although I was less concerned about having a doorman than Tom. We agreed that a divided space would be preferable to a larger, multi-purpose room. Tom started to wax poetic about how nice it would be to live in one of those newer full-service buildings going up. While I agree that high-end finishes, a concierge, a fitness room, and windows are all nice things that I would like, the crumudegonly, native New Yorker in me disliked the soullessness of these new places and their exclusivity. I also questioned when I might ever have time for a concierge service. All those windows make decorating hard. And the saver in me thought we should stick to a lower budget so that we might actually be able to afford to buy in a few years' time.

Here's a few pictures of what a typical NYC apartment in our price range looks like (all photos courtesy of the NYTimes Real Estate section):

(This one actually advertised itself as having stainless steel appliances. Do you see how small that kitchen is? Who cares about that stove when there's take-out, right?)

(Getting better, although this is a "railroad" style apartment. Light is good, but space is small, approximately 500 sq ft.)

(Another tiny-ass kitchen. And who needs such a large window in the bathroom?)

For reference, here are some photos from the luxury high-rises:





You'd want to rent one, too.

We made it home about 6:30, and spent the next 2 hours critiquing real estate postings. This was dangerous business as our move-in date is not until June 1st. Your search for the perfect New York apartment cannot even commence until 2 weeks before move-in. As in we were looking way too early for June 1st. (The Blog Sidekick and I found our first apartment a whopping 3 days before we moved in.) But the apartment we had seen that morning was renting for an exorbitant sum of money, and we decided to play a game and see how much we could rent for slightly less (but way more than I had considered before). And obviously, we stayed within a range we could afford. Lo and behold, we found this nirvana:



We called the listed broker and by 7:30 had an appointment to see the apartment the next day. You simply do not pass up an apartment like that. Tom and I were giddy all night, opening several spoiled bottles of wine. Tom also got up the nerve to ask me to throw out an old Christmas tree because "he didn't want to be the mean Jewish person who threw out his roommates' forgotten Christmas tree...in April." And then he would dissolve into paroxysms of laughter every time he opened the trash can and saw the discarded tree. Yes, the perfect apartment has that effect on people.

On Sunday, we toured the Perfect Apartment and were struck by it's charm...and small bedroom. The kitchen is divine, and the bath tub scary. My brother has a similar bath tub and it is quite frightening trying to climb out of it when you are wet and slippery. But we think we're gonna go for it. It's a rental apartment in a co-op building, which means that there are all sorts of gory hoops to jump through to even be allowed to rent in this building. Which of course will take up time and work nicely with our June 1st move-in date. Hopefully I didn't jinx our application by writing about the Perfect Apartment.

Later that afternoon we recycled 4 families worth of electronics equipment at an e-recycling event. We felt both lighter and like model citizens. Then it was off to the car for me, and home I drove the 370 miles.