I am a vagabond. In the most transient sense of the word.
Upon losing my prized East Williamsburg/Bushwick apartment on Morgan, due to my inability to find a new roommate by the months start, I figure there’s no better time to chronicle the adventures that will ensue. (Adventure used subjectively, as I view the smaller things as exciting.)
I had the place for a few years, with a rolodex of live-ins. I favored my apartment in the evenings- a den of candles, incense clipped between surgical scissors, Sade on record, wine in hand, reading. The ceilings were a good height, and though the furniture was a mash up of some things found and not my ideal decor, it was mine. My original roommate/friend and I moved in with a solitary air mattress and a fridge with limited stock. A bit later I lost her to the inescapable hold of love. Meaning she preferred to cook her boyfriend pasta and have the kitten I denied her. She moved in with him down the block.
Tip #1 It isn’t wise to take on a New York apt as lease holder if you can’t pay the rent in full, for the second room as well. Or, if in a bind, you’ll end up sofa meandering like myself.
I packed my things, moved them into storage and am living out of four suitcases- one for heels. After a brief bout of bemoaning, I realized it may not be the worst thing. I hadn’t realized my pre-blow dry-straighten-wavy mess of hair was uncombed till I took a friends shower where the hot water lasted enough for washing, shaving, and detangling. In all seriousness, I reached a level of liberation and creative inclinations have been renewed. Change is good for the soul. Yes, I will keep telling myself this till my first apt is only a fond memory.
Tip #2 Nurture your New York friendships. Never know when you’ll be playing with their dog, watching their baby, being a wingman in exchange for a roof.
I soothed myself with Karen Walker sunglasses at Generra for the long awaited heat and will begin the save. First, last, and I’ll be damned if I’m in a jam again security.
Style, Helter Skelter