Holding out
I admit it. I've been holding out on you folks a little. It's just that I'm Catholic and therefore convinced that nothing will go smoothly in life and terrible things will befall me. And, for the past month, they kinda have. Really, I'm expecting locusts any day now.
But now that we *finally* have the keys in hand after the requisite amount of drama, I think it's safe to say that Jon and I have a new place in Brooklyn. And it's great. And I love it. And it's so much better than I expected. That about sums it up.
It's in beautiful Cobble Hill. (Or, as we call it in the 'hood, "Never ran, never will, Cobble Hill." Ok, no one calls it that but me.) And -- wait for it -- it's a duplex! Two floors! I didn't even know there were apartments with two floors that were affordable for people without inheritances. I guess to people outside of New York I might sound a little crazy now.
The place is being painted, so photos are limited, but I couldn't sleep until I showed off the steps leading to our downstairs. We have a downstairs! Who are we?

And here is our exposed brick living room with a working fireplace. I love it! Sad thing is, I've written about too many tragic fire stories and know in my heart of hearts that I'll be too nervous to use it. But it looks nice, no?

Once the move is done, I can start reading blogs again. I'm hopelessly behind!
And honestly, I can't flee Queens fast enough. I have been so enraged lately about the blackout that at times I cannot see straight. I had extremely minimal power from Monday until Thursday, when my building lost electricity completely. And we didn't get it back until Sunday night. That's nearly a week without a fan or air conditioner, radio, Internet, television, hot water or, sadly, refrigerator.
I will admit that for me, this was an inconvenience, not life or death. But for my neighbors, the situation was dire. There wasn't any food or water for blocks and, for reasons I don't comprehend, the Red Cross didn't show up until Saturday night. (Perhaps because Con Ed was understating the problem? But they knew we were here. I'm stymied.) There were no lights on the street for five nights, until the Office of Emergency Management finally put up giant lights. There were no outreach workers telling people where to get water and food, and no transportation to the cooling centers, despite what was said on the news. People were literally and figuratively in the dark.
Even now, I'm hearing that the blackout is over, but there were still people on my block getting free spaghetti from the Salvation Army today. I wish that I had called 311, the city's helpline, before Saturday, but I just assumed that help was on the way.
Makes a nice, clean, new home seem all the nicer.
But now that we *finally* have the keys in hand after the requisite amount of drama, I think it's safe to say that Jon and I have a new place in Brooklyn. And it's great. And I love it. And it's so much better than I expected. That about sums it up.
It's in beautiful Cobble Hill. (Or, as we call it in the 'hood, "Never ran, never will, Cobble Hill." Ok, no one calls it that but me.) And -- wait for it -- it's a duplex! Two floors! I didn't even know there were apartments with two floors that were affordable for people without inheritances. I guess to people outside of New York I might sound a little crazy now.
The place is being painted, so photos are limited, but I couldn't sleep until I showed off the steps leading to our downstairs. We have a downstairs! Who are we?

And here is our exposed brick living room with a working fireplace. I love it! Sad thing is, I've written about too many tragic fire stories and know in my heart of hearts that I'll be too nervous to use it. But it looks nice, no?

Once the move is done, I can start reading blogs again. I'm hopelessly behind!
And honestly, I can't flee Queens fast enough. I have been so enraged lately about the blackout that at times I cannot see straight. I had extremely minimal power from Monday until Thursday, when my building lost electricity completely. And we didn't get it back until Sunday night. That's nearly a week without a fan or air conditioner, radio, Internet, television, hot water or, sadly, refrigerator.
I will admit that for me, this was an inconvenience, not life or death. But for my neighbors, the situation was dire. There wasn't any food or water for blocks and, for reasons I don't comprehend, the Red Cross didn't show up until Saturday night. (Perhaps because Con Ed was understating the problem? But they knew we were here. I'm stymied.) There were no lights on the street for five nights, until the Office of Emergency Management finally put up giant lights. There were no outreach workers telling people where to get water and food, and no transportation to the cooling centers, despite what was said on the news. People were literally and figuratively in the dark.
Even now, I'm hearing that the blackout is over, but there were still people on my block getting free spaghetti from the Salvation Army today. I wish that I had called 311, the city's helpline, before Saturday, but I just assumed that help was on the way.
Makes a nice, clean, new home seem all the nicer.