Moving on up to the East Side

Well, not exactly up to the East Side, but close enough for government work. Last night, with the help of the very generous Frankie-Terry and his trusty Civic Hybrid, I moved from my old dorm down on Water Street to a temporary home in the East Village. My buddy Connor is letting me crash at his place for a few months (or until I get a permanent roomie) while he is in PA doing summer stock.

At this point I have lost count of the total number of moves I have made in my life, but I’m sure it is nothing less than 20, including all the annual moves as a kid, the untold number at the end of high school, and all those from the college era. Hopefully I have one more in me and I’ll be able to stay put for a few years, that is unless I decide I can’t hack it in New York and bail out, running home to TX with my tail between my legs.

My new home is amazing. It’s on Ave. C and I am smack in the middle of a whole bunch of great bars, cafes, etc. Including Zum Schneider, a German biergarten, across the street on the corner, WHOO HOO! On the opposite corner is the grocery, and across the street on the corner is the laundry. That’s closer than when I lived in the same building as the washing machines. Inside, we’ve got exposed brick on almost all the walls, a private deck with a Weber grill (!!!). The kitchen leaves something to be desired — in Frankie’s words it is, “the opposite of a kitchen” — but we shall overcome. My bedroom is pretty small as well, but wholly sufficient for sleeping and whatnot.

I’m so glad to be done moving for at least a little while. Now I can devote myself to more important things like my new job and finding the meaning of life.