Okay, so in the works we've got:

- blue leather couch with ottoman for $100 (very comfortable looking)
- 22 inch Mitsubishi TV for $50 (with free delivery)
- free set of assorted drinking glasses (if we pick them up first)

The only major thing we need to get is a dinette, but I think I'll be able to get one for under $50.

Tomorrow we're going to take a look at the sofa. If, for some reason, that doesn't work, I got a $65 back-up. It's blue fabric and it comes with a slipcover. It's okay, although not as nice.

Hello.

Classes start really soon and I'm actually into my second week for the mentoring thing at Goddard. I should be right smack in the middle of writing 20 pages of fiction and 3 annotations, all due on the 8th of September.

But there's the move and I can't seem to concentrate on characterization when the prospect of being couchless and TV-less in our new apartment is looming in my mind.

Let me remind you that we hardly have any furniture, so everything must be borrowed/stolen/bought anew. (Or secondhand, as the case may be.)

Yes folks, this includes plates to eat in, cups to drink from, mop and broom to clean with, and what have you. In short, mostly everything that a hosue needs to be remotely inhabitable. Not an easy task for someone who has never really had to worry about this sort of thing before.

Thank God for craigslist.

We got it.

We just plunked down $850 as a deposit today. The lease is going to be in John's name because he's the one with good credit, but I had a sublease contract drawn up between he two of us so everything is in black and white.

Just a credit check, and then we can move in on labor day weekend. Since I have to be out of here by the end of this month, I guess we'll have to see about a rental truck early next week.

We also need:

microwave
pots and pans
flatware
plate set
glasses and cups
dish rack

couch for the living room
shelves
rug
TV
VCR/DVD
fans

We also have to give the cable company a call. Still thinking if we need a land line, since we have our celphones anyway and if we can get cable internet, then we're fine.

But the bottomline is, we got it. I have a place to live now for the next year.

Waiting for the stupid phone to ring.

We went to look at this really cute apartment this morning, and right off we decided it was the one for us. There's a covered terrace thing (like the one at home in Manila) which I really like. I mean it's additional space and it's pretty space at that. I think it's technically a greenhouse, but since it's attached to the apartment it just makes everything look so cozy and, well, country-ish. It's perfect for writing or maybe having a nice meal.

Oh,and you get lots of light and a great view of the outdoors. And speaking of oudoors, there's also a really spacious backyard. Another thing I like is that our entrance is in the back, which means none of our windows look out into the street. Extreme privacy.

The apartment itself is small, but comfortable. There's a carpeted bedroom, a living area, a kitchen, a bathroom, and the aforementioned mini-terrace/half a greenhouse.

Also lots of parking. Also, it's in a nice, quiet, safe area (Forest Hills) that's near the subway, laundromats, and it's a good commute to the city. Plus rent is relatively cheap.

And, boys and girls, that's why I'm waiting for the phone to ring. Tom, the person who holds our residential fate in his hands, is set to make a decision tonight. Alas, we are not the first to express interest. We, dearly beloved, are number fucking two.

If number one is indisposed, we get it though. So here's to hoping that number changed his mind/found something better/postponed the moving date/etc. I wish him all the luck in God's world with finding an apartment. Just let him pass on this one.

Worlds darken sometimes. You know it's inevitable. It's your life hungry for a sacrifice. And you hunt your gut for something worthy of the call.

Change. It's your brain craving for the change. It's your psyche clamoring to be dragged through hell. Why? Because you're a writer and you want to fuck with yourself. Because you need pain for inspiration. Because tears let life unravel. Because you're a crazy woman who misses the edge.

Comfort is an anesthetic. It's amnesia. It's a drug that blurs your passions, and sucks you up in a haze. Comfort is sleeping on the same fucking bed, with the same fucking pillow, over and over, night after night, until you don't even rememer the color under the sheets.

It can drive you mad. So mad you have to hallucinate to escape. So you imagine little things that open doors. Fights you can pick, words that you hear, scents that you catch when no one else is awake. Are they real? Who knows.

Something must be given up on the altar of the world you love. And you know you're not doing it for this one. They go one by one, you don't even notice their gone. Little bits of you. Floating up in smoke. Washed down by crying. Oozing out of your sallow skin pores.

You open up wounds so you can feel it again. You peel off the skin. From beds. From flesh. Because you need to know what the color is underneath.

And then you can exhale. You realize you're only alive when you feel it. When your bleeding from the inside. When you are doubled up and writhing because hell has found a new home.

And then you fucking smile.

Sort of went apartment hunting yesterday. So where am I with the great hunt for my new home? Here are my options:

$625 Woodside double room -- which has a separate entrance and almost feels like a studio, except the bathroom and the kitchen (which are in the main hall) would be shared.

$825 Astoria studio -- except landlord hasn't called back so I guess they're thinking of giving it to someone else.

$480 Astoria room -- which is actually nice especially since it's the only room downstairs, the only drawback is it's pretty small.

$700 Jackson Heights Double room (again, one of those) --very large, 14x22, private entrance and very private. Only thing is, the neighborhood is a bit iffy.

Have to start writing annotations this week. Also must start on a new story. Still brainstorming for ideas.


Blackout

So where was I when the blackout happened? Well, boys and girls, I was in Manhattan, on my way West 28th street. I had just gotten off the subway at 23rd, and 2 minutes after the power went out.

Celphones weren't working, so friends-to-be-met couldn't be contacted. Walked around a bit, trying to determine what the fuck had happenned. Passed by a car with the radio turned up really high... they were listenning to the news. Word of power outage across the northeast, all the way to Toronto. Trains are down, buses extremely packed and extremely delayed, cabs were no longer stopping for customers.

City was paralyzed. Shops and reasturants closed down. Hotel customers camped out on the street. And so, dear boys and girls, yours truly was forced to join the mad exodus out of Manattan... on fucking foot.

Walked from 28th (Broadway and 6th) up to 59th street. Turned east to the Queensboro Bridge. Walked over the bridge. Walked into Queens. Crossed from Jackson Ave to Long Island City. Walked to Astoria. Walked home. Three fucking hours and 8 1/2 miles of continuous walking.

But you know what the clincher was? I did the first mile in crazy high heels.

Got home, to an unlit, unfanned, uncaring apartment. Traded blackout stories with roommates. Called John -- who was stuck in th house in the woods, alone, foodless, gasless, virtually phone-less as he couldn't make outgoing calls.

Showered. Sat around in the living room, which was illuminated by Ali's Esacada candles and a few dangerously low-burning votives, to exchange funny ghost stories.

Left eyelid dropped over eye. Then again. Then in regular intervals. Parts of brain flickered out. Mental shutdown. Must head to bedroom.

Somehow made it to bed. Crash. Boom. Zzzzz.

Apartment Hunting Again

I do not like apartment hunting with a deadline in mind. Ugh.

The last time I did this, I actually got a few feasible responses so I'm going to try this again. Basically, I would like to live either in a studio, or a 1 bedroom, or very large room in a share. I want something relatively close to the city and transportation, relatively close to groceries and laundromat, big enough to accomodate my stuff, and if in a share, CLEAN, responsible people close to my age (better if they have busy schedules).

So, if you know of anyone with a room/apt in NYC, please get in touch with me. Queens location is a must (concession to John). $700-ish rent (give or take a hundred, obviously better if lower), month to month preferred. Furnished or unfurnished, as long as it's decent, is in a good and safe area, and doesn't house any rodents. Longer commute time is okay, as long as train is nearby (I don't want to walk myself to death).