And That's How I Got Here

Where to begin?

So much has happened over the last three weeks. To start with, I've found a place. The leaf in the wind approach that I decided to take worked out. In the eleventh hour, the university came through with an apartment a block or so from campus. I'm sitting in it now, and it really is just a fantastic place. Large and well-lit with plenty to see and do all around me and a friendly room mate from Texas who is probably more daunted here than I am. It's an apartment I could live in for a while. Really. I love it.

So, I found a place. And I sold my stuff in Chicago--as much of it as I could bear to part with, which turned out to be a lot of it--and packed up the rest into a little corner of my studio, where I stared at it and contemplated how odd it is that six years of my life, messy and crude and convoluted as it has been, tucked so neatly into a square space.

When that was done, I said some goodbyes. The night it stormed so badly the city blacked out, we went to Joey's Brickhouse and Greg, the owner, invited us in to sit and drink for free by candlelight. So we did. And we ate donuts and had a great time until it was so late I couldn't keep my eyes open. And the next night, Ian hosted us at his place, and I did the same. And on the third night, I did not rest, but went to karaoke with friends who were noble and good enough to brave frat boys singing "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" in horrible, screeching tones.

When I had said my goodbyes, I got into a van with a guy who was also going my way. And we drove. On the day we left, an accident delayed us three hours. Then traffic in Chicago delayed us another two, and for all intents and purposes, it seemed like the city was doing everything in its power to keep me from leaving. Which a part of me kept wishing it had. Wishing I'd get one more day to enjoy it, to spend with friends, to bike around the lake. When my things were packed and we started to drive, the guy I was going with asked if I was sad to be going, and I couldn't really answer because if I had, I wouldn't have been able to keep myself from crying.

We drove two days cross country, and when we got to Philly, I dropped my stuff off at my grandparents' house. My apartment here, while nice, is still occuppied by a guy. He's moving out on Friday, but the university doesn't know that yet, so they think he'll be here for another three weeks. Until he tells them otherwise, I don't get to move my stuff in. So I dropped most of it off in Philly and will get it back later. Until then, all I have are my clothes, my computer, my air mattress, and my bedding. I've moved to places with less.

So I keep reminding myself that tomorrow is orientation and that a week from today classes start and that riding this current has taken me far and that it will take me farther (hmmm...by a curious typo, that phrase nearly became "it will take me father." Perhaps I should warn him...and get my accent checked).

Well-Educated Hobo

As the time for me to move to NYC gets closer, I should be getting more and more frightened, but somehow I'm not. I still don't have a place to live and I still don't know exactly what I'm going to do for money and I still don't know...

That's right, I don't have a place to live yet, though I'm moving in a week. I thought I had a place lined up. When I left NYC, I had visited a broker and set up a place to live, but by the time the landlords had processed my application, it all fell through. They had given the place to someone else. There was another apartment, my broker explained, and they would give me that one if I wanted it, but it was smaller and the layout was lousy. And from there it stretched on for weeks, with me on the phone with my broker three times a day, receiving pictures of apartments and promises of leases, maybe. My heart slowly sank and this deal slowly, but surely started to feel worse and worse.

Really, all the time gave me was a chance to think and to resort my priorities. What did I really want in an apartment? What was I going to have when I got to NYC. How are my finances going to be over the next year? Then an opportunity came up. Some friends of my friends here needed a room mate, so I e-mailed them to see about moving in. I was two days too late, but it set me to thinking. I like living alone, but living with room mates means my rent wouldn't be as high. My place would be furnished. I would have people to explore with, if I want. It would be a good way to start my time in NYC. So I called my broker and told him that I'm going it alone. He instantly offered to refund my deposit and said he understood.

So that's where I am. Scouring the listings on Craigslist looking for people to live with near me. I don't have a place yet. I might have only a sofa to sleep on when I get to NYC. And yet I'm not frightened. OK...I'm a little frightened, but with the sense that this will all work out. It will all work out. At this point, I've been through so much crap that has finally worked out in the end that I have nothing but faith that I will find a place. Even if it isn't the perfect place, it will be better than paying a broker to find me the place I didn't really want.

In the meantime, I'm left to marvel at the postings on Craigslist. Postings that say things like this one:

"Seeking Attractive Female for Mutual Benefits (Rent)

I am a successful professional that works in one of NYC's most prominent firms. I am willing to assist with rent in exchange for benefits. The more we click, the more generous I get. 420 friendly a plus.

I look forward to hearing from you soon. If interested, please email a pic."

And I'm left to reel at the disturbing probability that he'll find exactly what he's looking for. I shudder to think.