Why is This Night Different From All Other Nights?
It's our last night in Brooklyn. We're moving to Manhattan tomorrow.
I've lived in Brooklyn my entire life. Except for the time I "moved" to Switzerland and Oahu.
I was 18 when I went to Switzerland to stay with my cousins for three months. It was a "finding myself" kind of trip. I bought an open ticket (not realizing a person needs a work permit in order to stay in a country longer than 6 months.) The plan was to stay for three months as a tourist, and forever if I found a job, an apartment and a few cool friends.
Unfortunately, I was young and liked candy. I ended up spending way too much cash during a visit with a penpal in Holland. We took an impromptu trip to visit another penpal in Torino Italy and went a little wild eating gelato three times a day and cavorting.
The rest of my cash was spent in Switzerland, mailing boxes of chocolate to my family. Everything I tasted I bought eight of and mailed to NY. It was ridiculous. The Swiss postal clerk in the small town my relatives (still) live in hated me. My three month visit was over after 6 weeks.
I don't regret it. What's the fun in being a kid if you can't spend your money on candy?
Oahu also lasted 6 weeks. That was more of a permanent visit than Switzerland since my boyfriend at the time bought me a one-way ticket and planned to marry me if things worked out. But I hate the sun and I hate beaches, so I was miserable in Hawaii and he was miserable with me. I was 19. He was in his 30s. It was an awkward relationship. His best friend was a millionaire and we spent every minute on (really beautiful) golf courses. Now I'd probably love it. At the time, I was bored. The beauty wasn't lost on me. I took thousands of pictures. But I felt there had to be more to Oahu-with-a-millionaire than golf.
(I still dream about the heaven that is Oahu and regret that I was spoiled and 19 when I lived there.)
Anyway, my husband and I have found a new place to live and we move tomorrow. Our rent has tripled. For the first time ever, I understand why he never wanted to leave our hell hole apartment unless it was to buy a place. This is like throwing away thousands of dollars we've busted our asses to make.
Sure, I still believe peace of mind is more important than price of apartment, but NYC rent is insulting. There's no excuse for this.
But desperate folks can't be choosy. The buyer's market is strange in Manhattan. We've been searching for two years. Everything is tiny and expensive. And even if we found a place worth buying, it would take 2 - 6 months to close.
When you're ready to leave Hell, you're ready. Two - six months can feel like eternity.
I've lived in Brooklyn my entire life. Except for the time I "moved" to Switzerland and Oahu.
I was 18 when I went to Switzerland to stay with my cousins for three months. It was a "finding myself" kind of trip. I bought an open ticket (not realizing a person needs a work permit in order to stay in a country longer than 6 months.) The plan was to stay for three months as a tourist, and forever if I found a job, an apartment and a few cool friends.
Unfortunately, I was young and liked candy. I ended up spending way too much cash during a visit with a penpal in Holland. We took an impromptu trip to visit another penpal in Torino Italy and went a little wild eating gelato three times a day and cavorting.
The rest of my cash was spent in Switzerland, mailing boxes of chocolate to my family. Everything I tasted I bought eight of and mailed to NY. It was ridiculous. The Swiss postal clerk in the small town my relatives (still) live in hated me. My three month visit was over after 6 weeks.
I don't regret it. What's the fun in being a kid if you can't spend your money on candy?
Oahu also lasted 6 weeks. That was more of a permanent visit than Switzerland since my boyfriend at the time bought me a one-way ticket and planned to marry me if things worked out. But I hate the sun and I hate beaches, so I was miserable in Hawaii and he was miserable with me. I was 19. He was in his 30s. It was an awkward relationship. His best friend was a millionaire and we spent every minute on (really beautiful) golf courses. Now I'd probably love it. At the time, I was bored. The beauty wasn't lost on me. I took thousands of pictures. But I felt there had to be more to Oahu-with-a-millionaire than golf.
(I still dream about the heaven that is Oahu and regret that I was spoiled and 19 when I lived there.)
Anyway, my husband and I have found a new place to live and we move tomorrow. Our rent has tripled. For the first time ever, I understand why he never wanted to leave our hell hole apartment unless it was to buy a place. This is like throwing away thousands of dollars we've busted our asses to make.
Sure, I still believe peace of mind is more important than price of apartment, but NYC rent is insulting. There's no excuse for this.
But desperate folks can't be choosy. The buyer's market is strange in Manhattan. We've been searching for two years. Everything is tiny and expensive. And even if we found a place worth buying, it would take 2 - 6 months to close.
When you're ready to leave Hell, you're ready. Two - six months can feel like eternity.
posted by Karen @ 11:14 PM
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