A New Window.

It's a new window I look out today. One where the view is no longer tree lined wide streets, but rather looking across at the brick walls of the next apartment building through some steamy windows that need cleaning on the outside. Instead of sun streaming into my large windows, now I have to look sideways through an angled window, and up for a peek of blue skies. I'll miss the view, but the trade-off is that when we come out of the subway now, we are in the swanky streets of the Upper West Side where the pretty people live, college students, families and no longer walking down a block of crackheads, drug dealers and bums. The noise level is 100% different. The culture I recently lived in was one of people who felt the need to talk at very loud levels, yell, shout and then get downright crazy somewhere around midnight. Emergency vehicle sirens wailed at all hours. The walls in that apartment building were tissue paper thin, and the crazy Mexican (sorry, I know that's not P.C.) couple who lived next door seemed to pick middle of the night for their loudest fights.

Yes, living in New York City is very glamorous.

When I first moved here, six months ago, a friend said to me that only rich people should live in New York. I disagreed at the time, saying that most people here are just regular, working, going to school, raising families, getting by. The harsh reality of the economy is such that truly only rich people can afford to live here now. And let me say that I am not one of them. The rent I pay for a small one-bedroom is 1-1/2 times the cost of my mortgage for a 3000 sq ft house in the woods with a pool. This takes some serious lifestyle adjustment. I think today I'm having a major case of the "be-careful-what-you-wish-for" blues.

Visiting NYC several times a year for Olivia's auditions in the past always afforded us a somewhat oblique version of the city. We came with an agenda, appointments and enough money to see a show or two. We always prided ourselves that we did those trips "on the cheap" staying in a friend's apartment, eating little, seeing bargain shows.

Moving here and living in this city every day for half a year now gives you a new insight on the realities of being a New Yorker. First and foremost, find out what is free—the library, museums, walking vs. taking the subway, a one-week gym membership, your first yoga class. Then find out what is discounted or cheaper—student rush tickets to Broadway shows, lotteries for shows, the street vendor for fruit instead of Whole Foods and bargaining for everything everywhere you go.

Yesterday was a big day. When we originally moved to New York last August, we brought a backpack and a suitcase each (a small one because I didn't want to pay to ship it on the airplane.) As I packed for us to move to this apartment, it quickly amounted to at least 50 bags, boxes and stacks of pillows and blankets along with those suitcases and backpacks. With the help of a Man With a Van, we moved from a 4th floor apartment with an elevator across town to a 5th floor walk-up. Not from New York? Don't understand the lingo? Walk-up means no elevator in the building. I like to think that I am in good shape, but carrying those boxes up all those steep flights of stairs, I thought I might pass out, or worse. My heart was beating so rapidly and powerfully I thought there might be a possibility of having a heart attack while switching apartments. Luckily for Olivia, she was at rehearsal all day. The Van Man and I got quite a workout. I paid him almost double our originally agreed upon fee. In my good midwestern conscience, I couldn't haggle.

The rest of the day I scrubbed this space that apparently no one has lived in for a while. Because I am a designer, I had to immediately rearrange all the furniture, bookshelves and cabinets, giving it a complete remodel. I have to make it feel like home for Olivia and I. This morning I got my internet connection set up, and then watched online President Obama speak to a gathering of House Republicans. I drank coffee and ate yogurt. I sent some emails. I write this blog. All in the avoidance of unpacking those boxes. I need to do it to find some semblance of normalcy, but I lack motivation. I feel nostalgic for my old life. I miss Alexis. I miss Zachary. Heck, I miss Olivia because she's always out living her life. I miss my cats. I miss my friends. I miss the sheer amount of space in that big old house.

 

should have had before & after photos...

crooked photo of my little kitchen. we have a microwave again!

cute little workspace.

Okay, I'm inspired now. Going to make this apartment feel like home—at least for the next month. After that, we will see what the view is out the window.