Little Surprises

I have been inadvertently exploring different parts of the city lately.  Since finding my apartment, I couldn't wait to start looking for things to put in it.  When I moved here, I pretty much sold all my possessions and came here empty handed.  Since the apartment I am subleasing is fully furnished, I haven't bought a whole lot since moving.  I am actually a little surprised that I was able to make it this long without a microwave.  Although, believe it or not, I think I might have been eating more as a consequence since I knew that I wouldn't be able to easily heat up my leftovers.  Any excuse,  I know. 

Anyway, I have been exploring parts of the city because I have turned into a Craigslist junkie and have been running all over the place buying little odds and ends for dirt cheap.  I bought a pretty little chandelier down in Soho. (It's so cute!) I bought a red individual coffee maker in East Village.  I went to buy a shoe rack and a wine rack and somehow managed to get a nice little surprise in the form of a free digital photo frame from the guy selling his stuff.  On top of all that, both racks cost me $10 total, and while walking there, I surprisingly found a $10 bill on the ground.

My walk down to East Village yesterday lended its own set of surprises.  I was thinking to myself as I was walking down the street how weird it is to ponder all the people in this city. Every street is filled to the brim with many-storied apartment buildings, each holding their own set of tenants in large numbers.  In a way, I guess you could say we are packed in like sardines (hence the space issue), and the thought of how big and populated this city is was really boggling my mind. At that moment, I turned to my right and saw this...

This was a free, small garden where people in the neighborhood can go to relax.  There was a larger sized family sitting at a table in the back enjoying each other's company.  And the lady in the picture was hanging out with her pet snake hanging around her neck.

A few blocks down I saw this...

This was a random botanical garden that was just gorgeous.  I am not sure who is invited to this garden, but it was very pretty.

Then lastly, I saw this...

This little garden was full of mini gardens in which people in the neighborhood were growing things.  So although we live in this concrete jungle, I guess everyone finds ways to encorporate nature into their lives. 

So now for the big surprise. I went to complete my application for the new apartment yesterday and quite literally almost had a panic attack.  If I thought the real estate market was intense before.  I. Was. Wrong.  I thought that I was merely going to fill out an application, and quick as a split, I would be out of there and free to return to work.  Oh no. Not even close. 

I filled out the application, which was followed by the broker looking up my entire credit report.  We went through all my debt (going through one's debt with a perfect stranger can be disconcerting), and he seemed a little freaked out about the amount of debt that I have, which then got me freaked out.  He asked me how much I could pay up front.  I knew that I was going to need to pay some up front, so I had discussed it with my dad already.  He agreed (like a good daddy!) to help me wherever I needed help.  However, I didn't expect that I would need to come up with the number myself.  The broker explained that he was going to have to "sell" me to the landlord.  Huh?  In my prior experiences, I was usually on the other side of the equation and having an apartment sold to me.  No, not here.  We came up with a number, and then he had to call the director of the real estate agency.  After selling me to the director, I had a 25 minute phone interview with the director myself during which he asked me everything from where did I grow up to what does my dad do to how am going to pay rent to where did my credit card debt came from...so on and so forth.  This was followed by the director selling me to the landlord while the broker and I sat in a room and waited for the director's call with the landlord's answer.  I wasn't even sure I would get the apartment, much less my contigencies.  In the end, I ended up with a lower than advertised rent, a compromise on my move in date, and I had to pay less in prepaid rent than I thought (this is on top of my dad being a guarantor).  Here in NYC, the norm is that the tenant has to make 40X the monthlly rent in yearly salary.  Given the high rent rates, this is pretty substantial.  If you don't make 40X the rent, then you have a guarantor and you have to pay some rent in advance. 

After all was said and done, I ended up having to pay $9,500 up front, including security deposit, prepaid rent, first month's rent, and broker's fee.  No, I did not say $950.  I said $9,500.  I should consider myself lucky given that one of my colleagues was told to pay $25,000 up front for an apartment that he considered.  Still, this amount of money (which was surprisingly less than what I was originally told) stopped my heart and sent me into a minor episode of hyperventilation. 

The surprises just kept coming when my broker told me that I would need to provide this money in cashier checks either the next day or the day after.  My poor dad spent an entire frustrating day on the phone working on making this happen.  We managed to get the money into my account today but couldn't use it to write cashier checks until tomorrow.  Ugh.  But the broker was fantastic about it.  He made sure I knew that he wasn't upset, and hopefully I will be able to get the checks there by tomorrow afternoon.  Cross your fingers. 

Seeing as how I have not had to ask my parents for any hugely substantial amount of money since I was 18 years old, this was not a pleasant experience.  Thank goodness I have such loving and giving parents or I might be homeless (or at least living with some psycho roommate in a cave)!

I am really excited about moving in and decorating my new place.  Luckily, there is SO MUCH STUFF on craigslist here.  I am not talking crappy stuff.  I am talking nice, cute, fun things at dirt cheap prices.  I'm already thinking about the housewarming party I will be having.  Yesssss!

Lauren and I came upon another lovely little surprise.  We attended the NYC Texas Exes (the alumni association for our alma mater, UT Austin) happy hour the other night where we were informed of a little bar called 3rd and Long.  What drew us to this oasis of a watering hole was that they serve $1 beers on Monday and Tuesday nights.  So, it being a Monday night, there was nothing else to do but set out to find if such a place existed in the city.  Alas, we hit treasure, me maties.  After 6 weeks of paying $7 or $8 a beer (or even $20 for a cocktail), we were pleasantly surprised to find that our informers were correct.  Whilewe  did not go crazy in indulging in this new find, it was nice to be able to have a beer that doesn't cost more than lunch and possibly even dinner. 

Ok, so New York is obviously getting to me.  Today I was crossing the street (not in a very good mood, mind you) when some poo poo head decided to run a red light after our ped crossing light lit up.  This is not a small thing in NYC where pedestrians begin crossing the street when the opposite light turns yellow.  We all had to stop dead in our tracks.  I happened to notice that the perpetrators had their car windows down.  So what do I do? I yell.  I yelled right into their window just like all the crazy middle aged New York women I have been observing these past few weeks.  I was kind of surprised at myself.

One last thing to leave you with...

I passed the doggy gym today on my usual route, and I was surpised when I saw this.

I don't know if there was something in the water or what, but the puppies were la-a-zy today.

That's pathetic.  Cute. But pathetic.

And of course, there is the obligatory bulldog in the rest area.

And I overheard an employee behind me say that this is the Tiny Tots area.  That little Yorkie's name is Tinkie.

Ok, I gotta get to cleaning since I am heading to Texas tomorrow on vacay.  I have to do something about the squalor in which I live before inviting someone over to help me take care of the cats. Otherwise, no one will want to be friends with me.

Oy.