ATC in NYC

In hindsight, I definitely made excuses for where I lived in Brooklyn back in the good ole Belmont East days. As grateful as I was to have the chance to be anywhere near Manhattan, the Church Ave. stop on the F line cannot in any way compete with the prime positioning of my current digs in Little Italy.

I’m within walking distance of the Lower East Side, SoHo, and bunch of trendy spots on Bowery. The fact that I will never be cool enough to actually go to any of those trendy spots has yet to phase me.

What used to be a 50+ minute trek to work is now about 20 minutes. Instead of having one (count ‘em… one) subway line to usher me to my various destinations, now there are five to choose from… including the 6… which always makes me think of old school Jennifer Lopez. (On the 6? Anyone?)

Granted, if I veer too close to Chinatown, this illusion of perfection can sometimes be shattered. Think overly crowded streets. The smell of rotting fish. People spitting randomly. Book your ticket now!

But once you make it to my neck of the woods, you’re golden. There’s a really cute cafe and bakery that makes a mean peach sangria. A host of family-run Italian spots which I currently have trouble distinguishing from one another.  And more hipster clothing stores than you can shake a stick at. Which makes me eternally thankful that we have a Target up here.

The good thing about living in a 500 sq. ft. apartment is that it takes like 20 minutes to move all of your stuff in. Granted, the five flights of stairs (no elevator) has a tendency to slow things down, but it’s a small price to pay for living in such a spiffy town. And it keeps you accountable on your leg workouts.

Provided above is a thrilling photo documenting the lavish new closet unit I inherited from Blair’s old roomie, Kate. It’s pretty sweet as far as storage space goes. There’s also the desk, the bed, and the living room/kitchen/rest of the place. I can’t take any credit for how cute that last pic looks because they had it looking Urban Outfitters meets Crate and Barrel before I moved in… I just get to pretend like I’m that stylish!

I haven’t permanently relocated in six years and I forgot how completely draining the whole process can be. The last few weeks have been filled with swirling emotions and bittersweet goodbyes.

I’m having trouble deciding what the biggest accomplishment of the moving process has been thus far: getting some final quality time with pretty much every person I consider a cherished friend in Nashville (no small feat of creative scheduling) or fitting all of my crap in the back of my dad’s Tahoe…

Whatever the verdict, all I know is that I’m hitting the road and headed to the big city in exactly one hour and all the sadness that comes with moving is starting to turn into excitement!

Moving to New York means selling my car because, let’s face it, I can barely afford to live in the city as it is. (If it costs me $6/day to park in downtown Nashville, I don’t even want to think what an NYC parking bill looks like…) Truth be told, I’m feeling a little guilty about auctioning off my trusty Civic to the highest bidder since it has been such a fine, four-fendered friend these past five years. Accordingly, I made a pro/con list to offset the guilt…

Pros

• No car payments
• No insurance payments
• I can laugh at all of the common folk as they gnash their teeth over rising gas prices
• No more paranoia about running into (yet another) stationary concrete parking lot pillar

Cons

• Nowhere to sing showtunes/old school CCM at the top of my lungs
• The common folk will laugh at me whenever MTA raises the price of a one-month Metrocard
• I’ll have to scrap plans to shoot my long-awaited, suburban take on the classic Whitesnake “Here I Go Again” video