Elders? Yes, Listen to Them.

Gather round for storytime...

"You're a very attractive young woman, and I imagine you take many men home." (insert awkwardest pause imaginable, as an 85 year old couple stare me down). I warily glace back, unsure whether to laugh, deny, or simply shrug off the accusation.

"And you should,"she says to me, giving me the kind of glance usually reserved for construction workers cat-calling women on the street. "There's no reason to be tied down now. I mean, I had children by your age, but things are different now - you've got your whole life for those," she muses, eyes starting to glaze over as she is transported to a golden age of remembrance (or perhaps some LSD related flashback, it wasn't entirely clear).

After recalling her glory days, apparently full of one night stands and salacious affairs, her husband timidly cut in with a new topic, to my immense relief.

The jury's still out on whether her advice about men is true, but their non-relationship advice was astounding.

The couple I'm referring to were potential landlords in my apartment search last week. Though they had incentive to paint a perfect picture of their building, they were refreshingly frank with me. This may seem overly simple, the advice that stuck with me the most is as follows:

Lesson #21 when moving to a big city: No matter how much you like an apartment the first time, you must see it a second time before deciding anything. Needless to say, with my first apartment in NYC I didn't see it at all, and the second one I saw just once...so clearly the third time's a charm (and if you know me well, you probably know how both of those went...leaving it at that.) It's practically impossible to really see any flaws the first time, to know which types of questions to ask, and to simply give yourself the chance to think through what it'd be like to live somewhere.

I ended up finding a place I really like, in a great location (check out a NYTimes writeup here), and didn't sign a lease before I saw it a few times. Funny enough, it wasn't the place they showed me. I took their advice to heart I and realized that I wasn't thrilled with the space and their tendency to pry made it even less desirable. Maybe I'm more old-fashioned than an 85 year old couple, but imagining them seeing me bring anyone home is too painful a thought, whether or not they approve (read: insist).

(Update: I'm moving to Boerum Hill, Brooklyn this weekend from the West Village! Wish me luck!)

Moving on

I literally brought 2 suitcases with me when I moved, and still haven't brought the majority of my belongings...

So here I sit, surrounded by a moat belongings in my parent's home. I'm sorting what I need to bring back to the city, what I'm giving to goodwill, what I'm bringing to my brother's for storage, and which items of clothing will also double for a noose in case moving really gets to me. (Okay, I probably shouldn't make suicide jokes here - I'm using a little poetic license. Plus, aren't most writers a tad suicidal anyway? Just pretending to fit that mold).

Lesson #10: Moving should resemble removing a band aid if at all possible - do it as quickly, and seamlessly, as possible. In particular, I mean moving one's belongings. I have drawn this process out over literally a few months, and it's been more painful than it should be. My advice would be to just take care of it all at once - just hire movers, storage space if necessary, and so on.

In the spirit of Thanksgiving, though, I'm just happy that I have family and friends to help with the enormous amount of work that moving entails! Honestly, I would be utterly lost without my mom's insane knowledge of storage, moving, etc. Plus she made me a blanket with old t-shirts from age 4 to 24 (favorite shirt being the "We Love Recycling - 1989," my parent must have known that I would be a tree hugger). It's great. Plus it got rid of like 30 t-shirts that I would have to otherwise sort through and store, so it's also been the saving grace of my sanity.

Week 1: of Mice and Mental Stability

My new home (for October, at least) - Williamsburg, Brooklyn. A note: I've heard the new Jay Z song "empire state of mind" at least 2x per day while in Brooklyn - I mean, I get it - he's from BK, it's a love song to NYC, etc..but really? Do we need to hear it that often?

I am happy to report that I have only seen mice on the streets so far, not in my lovely 1bedroom. On the other hand, my two roommates (Henry and Sascha, cats) would be more than happy to find mice, I'm sure. When they aren't hissing at me or demanding attention, I actually get along with them okay.

However, on the mental stability front, I've gone through countless emotions this week. No complete freak-outs, but some wtf moments. I miss friends & family like crazy, but I'm slowly adjusting to life here. And finally:

Lesson #1 in moving to a big city: open the cab on the side of the street that traffic is not on. Seems simple enough, but I learned it the hard way upon getting dropped of from La Guardia and promptly slamming the cab door into an oncoming car. Luckily, the other car was only slightly damaged and left after only cursing me a few times. Welcome to NYC!!