Apartment fiasco

Since I know you're all dying to know about my apartment (and I should have written about it as soon as I moved in - sorry for the delay), here's the story:

I went into the process of looking for an apartment in the City with the mindset that living in a nice place was essential to having a good time in NYC. After all, I lived in a luxurious apartment (for free) over the summer and had the time of my life - how could I not return to New York thinking this way? Needless to say, I was somewhat disappointed when I walked into a building far from luxurious. 

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Towards the end of my last semester at school, I used apartment searching (among many other things) as a form of procrastination. And by "apartment searching", I mean "drooling over apartments that cost more monthly than I will make in my entire life". Let's just say I wasn't really looking at within-budget places...take the gorgeous $100,000/month place that I found, for example. The master closet alone was bigger than all of the rooms in every apartment I've ever lived in combined (probably just enough space for all my clothes to fit comfortably). Sad.

Hey, a girl can dream. One day I will own that apartment, but all that dreaming was not going to help me find a place to live ASAP, and sadly I was forced to snap back to reality...

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Anyways, most of my extended family lives on the east coast, so naturally I have family in the NY suburbs. My aunt and uncle that live about half an hour from the City have been more than helpful in the entire process of my move to New York, and they have supported me throughout the evolution of my dreams of being here.

Both my aunt and uncle are doctors and are both affiliated with Columbia University. So as I (attempted to) study for my finals and write the last papers of my college career, my uncle took it upon himself to use the Columbia U housing database to help me find a suitable* apartment. My parents had mentioned to my family that I, being the stubborn brat that I am, only wanted to live in Manhattan (it's convenient, obviously), and that I was unwilling to even consider other burrows. This posed quite the problem, however, since Manhattan is not known to be the cheapest area to live in New York. Hence my uncle's help.

My uncle was on top of his game, though, and he sent me several options of affordable apartments around Columbia, all of which were cheaper because they were school-owned buildings meant for grad students. I can't say I'm ungrateful for his help, au contraire, it was extremely nice of him to put in the time that he did. But it was semi-overwhelming receiving multiple e-mails a day describing different places, all of which I only had a few days to decide whether or not I wanted to sign there [side note: there were no pictures attached to any].

Time was running out, though, so I had to decide quickly. My dad told me to go for the last one my uncle had sent me - the price was right, it was only 9 blocks north of where I was living over the summer so I'd know the area well, and it seemed spacious (at least from his description). So reluctantly I e-mailed my uncle back telling him that I'd sign for that one.

Note to self: NEVER agree to living anywhere if you don't see pictures first.

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As I pulled up to the building, my new roommate, an international social work grad student from China, came down to help with my bags. I finally arrived at apartment 25:

Hallway from front door (open door is bathroom)

Bathroom

Kitchen

Pseudo-office

"Living room"

My room

 I mean, it's not awful, but it's no Riverside Drive (summer apartment), that's for sure. I'm not going to lie, I was not thrilled to be walking into this place. I tried to keep a smile on my face as my roommate showed me around, but I was holding back tears. The place just didn't seem homey.

I tried to think about the positives. On the bright side, the ceilings are high and there are hardware floors. On the unbright side (literally), I couldn't help but notice that there is ZERO natural sunlight. There are large windows on every side of the apartment, all of which look out to a beautiful view of brick walls. When I complained about this to my dad, his argument was that's what you get for living in a city full of high-rises. My argument was that's what you get for not having a say in the apartment searching process and signing a lease when you don't know what you're getting...  

NEVER.EVER.AGAIN.

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So that's pretty much the gist of my living situation. The place obviously wouldn't have been my first (or second or third or fiftieth) choice, but now I have 3 full months to do some serious apartment searching. And don't worry, my permanent apartment will be much more my style.

Updates to come.

xo

 

*suitable to him