Bye Bye Chelsea.
It’s hard to believe that just a year ago I moved into my first studio apartment in Manhattan. For those that know me, the first two months of living and adjusting to the poorly kept and slightly chaotic space led to quite an accumulation of stories and tales, ones that will live on long after I continue my travels beyond the Hudson River. In honor of one era ending and the beginning of yet another brand new adventure, I’ve compiled a list of my infamous love/hate relationship with D3.
Here’s to the memories… at least some of my favorites.
1. Discovering a dead mouse, amongst other things, the day I moved in. Discovering a live one in the months that followed. I will never forget the night I woke up to him crawling up my window, right next to my bed. Way to invade my personal space Mickey.
2. Building, painting, and decorating a 13’ x 8’ space and making it feel like home. I particularly loved painting the vines that surrounded my archway, and finding ways to make storage items look pretty. Thank God for Pier One, the Container Store, Target, Home Depot and Bed, Bath and Beyond. It truly takes a village.
3. Waking up every morning to the big tree outside my window. Especially when I woke up early enough to catch the morning light… a golden glow that illuminated the fire escape as the sun came up. It was a rare moment of peace.
4. Living in a fourth floor walk-up. Great for the ass, a nightmare when moving. Or when you would get to the bottom of the steps and realize you forgot something upstairs.
5. Grey Dog. And Grey Dog chocolate chips cookies. Right. Next. Door.
6. Daily walks to Hudson River Park, laying out and lunching in the circle park, and regular trips to Red Mango.
7. My writing desk. A place where I sat staring blankly at times… and typing madly and furiously at other times. It was my jumping off point to many ideas, pieces, and aspirations… I hope the next time I come back to it, I will be sitting down to write from an even more inspired and successful place.
8. The kitchen. I must address the kitchen, with it’s gaping hole in the ceiling and 50 year old confectioners oven (which I insisted be removed for health reasons- I’m pretty sure it had a gas leak). My kitchen window faced my chain-smoking neighbors apartment, and each puff she took would blow directly into the 2x4’ space, filling my nose with the stale scent each time I went to get a glass of water. It had two little white doors that opened to about 4 tiles, a sink, a mini-fridge (that broke the last month I lived there) and a stove top. I made many delicious egg white omelettes in that little cell. It was the most “New York” thing about that place… hands down.
9. The musical serenade from my next door neighbor. I always knew what kind of mood he was in… For example, in the first few months he was going through a break up. I deducted this (the slick detective that I am) because his daily playlist consisted of three Justin Timberlake songs: “What Goes Around Comes Around,” “Cry Me a River,” and “Another Song All Over Again.” After about a month of this, he moved on to Judy Garland. Just one particular song. Also on repeat. Then came the rebound phase. The soundtrack to that? Lady Gaga. Obviously. Last I heard he was blasted techno dance music at 8am. Glad to see he’s moved on.
10. The neighborhood. What a wonderful spot to immerse yourself in and learn to navigate the city. I spent many nights walking home from the LES and Greenwich Village, taking in the quiet moments on the city streets, discovering architecture, and spending quality time with my iPod. I could be at a venue in 10 minutes, BK in 15 minutes, uptown in 20 minutes, and Jersey in a half hour. You just can’t beat that.
The memories. For better or worse, that apartment took me through one of the biggest transitional years of my life. If those walls could talk, they would spill stories of love, friendship, fighting, tears, laughter, frustration, hope, sleepless nights, wonderful nights, sleepovers, music, dressing up, dressing down, and so much more.
We had a good run D3. I’ll miss you.