Back to 71st

New York, NY

A few years ago, I wrote an excited post about me moving to West 71st Street. (Complete with aerial views and large red arrows.) I moved out of that apartment, and moved again. All the while, I really missed living in that neighborhood. And fate, it seems, would come calling again.

After the hell I went through last year, I deserved a quiet apartment search. One free of horrible brokers, ass rapings, lies, cheats, and paperwork. And I found it. I literally looked at one apartment yesterday. ONE! I sent in my application, was approved this morning, and I signed the lease this afternoon. And this particular apartment just happens to be on the exact same block I used to live on. The view out my bedroom window is practically the same. Oh, and I'm living alone. Now I can stay up late at night playing Grand Theft Auto without fear that the random killing of prostitutes is keeping my roommates up. I can watch Something's Gotta Give without shame. And I can be naked ... all the damn time.

Needless to say, I'm excited. I may turn into a recluse. I may choke on a lozenge in the middle of the night and wait for Tulagi to eat my lifeless body. But it'll still be worth it.