When we last checked in, we were in the sunny climes of Florida, spending time with family and friends while we talked and prayed at length about moving back to Manhattan. In the middle of February, we flew up to NYC to attend our friends’ wedding. During the trip, we stayed with friends on the Upper East Side and researched what the rents were like in the neighborhood compared to when we moved away in 2010.
I’d like this blog to not turn into BuzzFeed, but this GIF sums it up nicely:
Rents have been exploding. One friend told us their monthly rent has increased by $1,000 over the last few years. We found out that one of our old apartments was actually coming available. It was $300 more per month than when we lived there. Our dream of returning to the Upper East Side took a serious nuking. Continue reading
I’ve dug into writing recently – reading about it, attending a writers’ circle, taking a class – and I’ve learned again and again: “Write what only you can write.” This wisdom is sweet to my ears because I love to tell our story in hopes that it can encourage others, or, more likely, teach others how not to live.
So, I was disheartened when I checked the blog to see the last time we told our story, saying where we are in life and where we want to go. I saw giveaway posts, posts about random things we did, posts about cool music, and other stuff that no one wants to read. But I couldn’t find a real life update. I had to go 25 PAGES back to August 5, 2011, to this text tour of our apartment in the Bronx. In the post, I described our first place in the North Bronx, a two-bedroom with not-so-soul-crushing rent and a month-to-month lease.
Since that post, we’ve moved two other times, attaining the most comfort and space we’ve known since we lived in Florida. But as we’re wont to do, we’ve turned it all upside down again. Here’s a rundown of the moves and twists and hippy hippy shakes we’ve been through since that August 5, 2011 update: Continue reading
We’re coming up on the one-year anniversary of Cool Boy’s first heartbreak. It was nothing catastrophic, but I still get chills thinking back to that moment.
We had spent the last couple of days doing what obviously must be our favoritest thing to do in New York City: moving. Thankfully, CB was entertained while we shuffled boxes and Hefty bags of clothes, exploding mini-mushroom clouds of dust about the place. He had a balloon that we had gotten from Macy’s. It was a Mylar star, taut with helium, and CB’s favorite color: red. Continue reading