1945

For most of my life, I have liked the number 1945. It's always connoted the end of World War Two, in my history-major mind. I'm pretty sure you'd have to be insane not to like that.

Yesterday, my appreciation of the number diminished somewhat. It's less appealing when your lease renewal shows up and that it the number on it, represententing an increase of several several hundreds of dollars.

Expect Manhattan real estate angst to be forthcoming.

But, I'm ready. Let's go.

You know, now that i think about it, perhaps the World War Two analogy isn't all wrong. Consider me the allies, and every apartment in this city the Nazi hordes. See that photo up there? That's gonna be me, on June 1st, hoisting a new pride flag on my fire escape, in victory over the millions of people vying for the oh so many apartments in this city, and saying nana nana poo poo to the idiot who lives in this apartment for $2400 when I lived in it for 14.

Yes, let's go.

Really? THIS is why I've been up for an hour?

I woke up at 6:30 this morning, out of a dream that made me SO excited that I simply could not stay asleep any longer.

What was it, you ask?

Obviously is was that my landlord told me that there was a Christopher Street-side one bedroom available that Sean & I could take---and here's where the excitement kicks in---we would be paying the same rent we are now. Why am I dreaming about this NOW? My lease isn't up for another 6 months! Jesus!!!

Thanks, Manhattan Real Estate Insanity, for taking over my day time & my dreams.



Not my apartment.