I DID IT!!!! I made a platform bed out of some pallets all by myself! It took me over a year to start on it but it actually took 2 days to make. I picked up the wood pallets from a warehouse near my apartment for $20 and the paint was left behind by the previous resident. Too lazy to sand down all the edges, I just painted, giving it a nice rustic look. I purchased my brand new king-sized bed for $650 from a hotel and the sheets are a splurge from a Frette sample sale. Now I have room for all of my cats and I sleep like a queen!
I’ve had a lot of birthdays…42 of them to be exact. The big shindigs, the elaborate dinners and trying to get together with the guys that was dating or trying to date took a lot of effort and time. I was over it. So this year, I took some suggestions from friends and went with that. I decided to splurge and get a nice mani-pedi with some friends and then do dinner and drinks. I had one of the nicest, quietest, and most fun birthday!
No. We’re not keeping a mattress on the floor. We’re poor, not crackheads.
– 2 Broke Girls
I’ve had my mattress on the floor for some time. I have yet to pick out a bed frame. Browsing in IKEA, West Elm, Pottery Barn and CB2 just made me more frustrated. So I decided to make my own bed frame. That’s right, this lady is going to build a bed frame out of pallets. I just hope I don’t fuck it up.
Although you may feel as if you’ve worked yourself into a corner, you now have a window of opportunity to turn things around. However, it could take more time than you realize, so don’t frustrate yourself by trying to do everything all at once. A positive attitude helps, but showing up over-eager could put others off because they know that your show of confidence is false. Even if you’re facing real deadlines, remember that acting before it’s time won’t help you or anyone else.
I applied for a new apartment and got denied. They are mailing me my deposit so I have to wait for it in order to put down a deposit for any other place. I have to tell my landlord that I will be here for another 2 weeks. I don’t want to live with Pigpen anymore. I’m really tired of the hour and a half commute to work even though I live and work and in Brooklyn. And Mercury is in retrograde, so nothing is getting done.
I moved back to New York on July 29th last year. There have been plenty of ups and downs, too many jobs, more drama and not enough sex. All I can say is that I am sure I have more social, cultural and romantic opportunities here than I did in Miami Beach. In fact, concerning the dating world, I’ve had more action in the year that I have been here than the five years I lived in Florida! So now I’m renting a room with my friend from Miami and in a few months, we’re getting our own apartment. After going back and forth between working in a restaurant kitchen and working as a private chef, I’ve decided that neither of those two options are the right fit for me. I have two interviews scheduled this week and I worked as an extra for a commercial. I don’t feel stifled anymore. I feel like I can do whatever I want, whenever I want with whoever I want. Faith…it’s a good thing.
After staying in Sofa City at a bunch of friends’ apartments, I found a room for rent at $125/week. I thought I hit the jackpot, but what I found was actually a tad illegal and shady. I went to a real estate manager’s office for short term rentals. I filled out an application, and was shown this apartment. It was small but they would take my cats and it was a two minute walk to the subway station, not to mention the grocery store across the street. I gave my first week and last week’s rent to my roommate, who also managed the apartment, and picked up my cats from the kennel. Fast forward to a few months later, to where I come home and my roomie’s friend who owns the dry cleaning store across the street is there. He tells me that my roomie is in Miami for a few weeks and he would collect the rent. My roommate lived in Miami for about a year and has friends there, so I didn’t think anything of it. The following day, I got up, did all my laundry, cleaned my room, cleaned the cat litter box and went out to dinner and a conference with a friend. Later that evening, I come home to a messy apartment. Apparently, a search warrant is a piece of paper that allows the police to ransack your apartment, throw your shit on the floor and search everything, including your underwear and your cat litter box. One of my cats, Diablo, who rarely socializes or meows, greeted me at the front door, crying like a crazy cat. Great. I’m living my own version of Law & Order, except there is no hot detective to help me. I read the warrant and it looks as though they searched this apartment and another one for fraudulent papers, aka a fake passport or Social Security Card ring. Now I’m pissed. I don’t feel safe and my cats feel violated. Who keeps fraudulent documents in a cat litter box? I cleaned my room, calmed the cats and went to bed. A few days later, my roommate’s wife comes by the apartment looking for my weekly rent. I explained to her what happened and that no one was here to collect the rent after the warrant incident. She told me I had to have last week’s rent and this week’s rent to her by tomorrow. I said fine. The next day, I told her to come by and pick it up before 230pm and she said okay. At 2:10pm, she asked me to drop it off at the dry cleaner place across the street. I did so, only because I know the owner and I gave it to him after txting her that I gave him the money. The next morning, the super knocked on my door asking for rent. What? I told him that my roommate does that. A few hours later, the building manager comes by, saying that my roommate is two months behind in rent. Of course, he has no business card, and no phone number for me to contact him, but I give him my roommate’s wife’s number. Interesting. As soon as the manager left, I went across the street and asked Mr. Dry Cleaning if the wife picked up my rent money. He said no, prompting me to tell him that the super and the building manager came by asking for rent. I called her, and she did not pick up. So I asked for my rent money, and he gave it to me. A few minutes later, she sent me a txt message saying that she was going to give the apartment back to the building manager in seven or eight days and that it was too much work for her. I just said okay. She then txtd me saying her sister has a room in Manhattan for $150/wk if I wanted it. I declined. I’m not stupid. This morning, she came by asking why I took my rent money back. My other roommate popped in and said, quite frankly, “You told us last week that we have to be out of here by this week because you’re giving the apartment back in a few days, and after the search warrant incident, you still want us to pay? Hell no.” I stiffled my laugh. I told her that she still had my last week of rent from my deposit and that I put a deposit on a new apartment and gave money to the building manager. I also said that she is two months behind in rent and I refuse to give any more money to anyone else until I am guaranteed a place to stay. She had nothing to say about it. My other roommate let her have it, because the police dumped everything he owned on his bed and the floor. Before she left, she said that she would be giving the keys to the super or the building manager on Friday. Yesterday, the super told me there was a woman in the building renting a room for the same price, and it’s actually on the same floor. Meanwhile, I posted ads for the mini fridge, the futon and other things that my roommate let me use. And I’m taking the cable modem, the router, and the tv. Class, what have we learned? If the apartment is cheap and too good to be true, it’s most likely illegal. If you think you’re being screwed, try to stay one step ahead and sell their shit. Class dismissed!
I’ve been in New York for exactly one month and I am thoroughly fucked. After working three shifts at the store, the manager decided that I was not aggressive enough. Wow. Really? I mean, really? My middle name is aggressive. This prompted an all out interview bonanza. I went through seven interviews the first week, and two this week. Still nothing. Let me see: I went to culinary school and housekeeping school, and the agency sends me to interviews for housekeeper/cook or housekeeper positions. Why do these families turn me down because I don’t have enough childcare experience? Seriously? I think it would help if they advertised for a nanny/housekeeper and not waste my time or their time. Don’t get me started about apartment searching. The short-term rental company that I had contacted for a weekly room was busted for scamming people. I had a sublet for two weeks but it was expensive. I should have just waited and found a cheap room for rent. My cats have moved around as much as I have. They were in the car, in a kennel, at a pet sitter and now at a friend’s house…but not for long. Mufasa and Diablo, the little heathens that they are, have been using her couch as a scratching post. Now I have to find a place for them…until I find an apartment…and a job. So yeah, I’m fucked.
I am really digging New York City. I have already gone through the hazing: suffered riding a train with no a/c, waiting in a hot subway station for a delayed train and getting lost. So many of the restaurants and bars that I have heard of (Momofuku, d.b.a, Veselka) are around the apartment where I’m staying. And I’m not going to lie, the East Village is like and asian fantasyland for me. There are too many good-looking japanese, chinese and korean men here. In fact, there is a shitload of nerdy-sexy, dirty-sexy, and ugly-sexy men everywhere. My vajay-jay is going to spontaneously combust. If only I could stay here longer. Finding an apartment is the most difficult task especially when you can’t afford to live where you want to live. I’m trying to stay positive and concentrate on finding a place — damn, he is FINE, I gotta have me some of that, where’s the fire? I’m sorry, what was I saying?
I made the calls, forwarded my resume, sent the follow-up emails and made the move. One sentence cannot emphasize the amount of stress I have gone through during the last two months. I packed up my apartment, donated most of my stuff, and put eight boxes and a bag in storage. I couldn’t fly with my cats so I rented a car and actually drove from Florida to Maryland. Oh…holy…Jesus…that was stressful. I haven’t driven a car since 2008 so yeah, not only my life was in danger, but also my cats, and anyone on the road or the sidewalk. I left Monday night, arrived in NYC on Wednesday afternoon. I slept for 10 hours in 3 days. I was a wreck. But now I’m so much happier. New York is amazing. I still haven’t found an apartment yet, and have resorted to staying with friends. I start my new job this week and I’m working on getting another one. I don’t know what is going to happen next, but I know I am much happier here.
Things are going well with the new apartment. The few friends who have come by like the layout and the open feeling when there. I just wish I had more furniture. I am focusing on decorating it, and putting something on the walls! I went from owning a 2BR/1.5BA with a basement and a deck in Baltimore to renting a studio apartment with an eat-in kitchen in Miami Beach. I’ve given away or sold most of my furniture from previous residences so I’m starting from scratch. My place looks like a serial killer lives there, with a mattress on the floor, a tv, a pitifully small futon, and a desk. There is no table to eat on and I have two forks, two spoons, two plates, two knives, etc. If more than one person comes over, I have to eat off paper plates. I strongly believe the word minimalism really means having no furniture and barewalls because you’re broke.