Live from the Upper East Side
Hey Upper East Siders, Gossip Girl here. And I have the biggest news ever...
I heard you've been asking for me. And I'm back to answer your cries for more.
The thing is I've been enjoying life. This blog used to be my way of venting to you about my struggles, obstacles, and how exhausted I was trying to chase a dying dream. Once my life started to come together I didn't feel the need to open my laptop and write. But that shouldn't be the case. I'm back to write about my success with a little humor mixed in. Because you can't live in NYC without odd things happening to you.
The last time I wrote I was still living in my dump of an apartment in Brooklyn. Now I live on the Upper East Side near Central Park. When did my life become so fabulous?
Fabulous in that I live with my boyfriend on a tree-lined block 15 minutes from work and have access to wine, groceries, bars, and Starbucks within a block from my apartment. I have a dishwasher. I have AC. I still have a fire escape I can sit on because that's equivalent to a balcony in NYC.
Not so fabulous? It's a 330 square foot studio and I share a tiny closet with my boyfriend. If you saw how much stuff I had (uh, I had FOUR closets in Brooklyn) you would say "nah, IMPOSSIBLE." But I say "mission accomplished." I purged. A LOT.
Our little place fits a queen bed, an uncomfortable futon, a tiny dining table, a dresser, and my bar. The whole place is about the size of my old bedroom in Brooklyn. I built an Ikea bed frame with storage drawers underneath by myself. Girl power.
We also live next to 2nd Ave, where they just opened the new subway line! Do you know what all that construction causes? Mice. We had a little problem when we first moved in...
Nick is terrified of mice. We even had to switch sides of the bed so I was closer to the kitchen where Melvin happily ran around. Melvin was our first mouse and he died an unfortunate death on a sticky trap. Once Margarine came we knew we had a problem. But our super is actually amazing, unlike my slumlord in Brooklyn and she plugged up all the openings with steel wool. We haven't had to name a mouse since!
All that being said, our place is great. I love our little box of an apartment. It's definitely a test of our relationship, especially when he gets up early on Saturdays to work and I'm trying to sleep in the opposite corner. It must be love if I've survived this long without a proper Saturday sleep-in.
More to come!
I heard you've been asking for me. And I'm back to answer your cries for more.
The thing is I've been enjoying life. This blog used to be my way of venting to you about my struggles, obstacles, and how exhausted I was trying to chase a dying dream. Once my life started to come together I didn't feel the need to open my laptop and write. But that shouldn't be the case. I'm back to write about my success with a little humor mixed in. Because you can't live in NYC without odd things happening to you.
The last time I wrote I was still living in my dump of an apartment in Brooklyn. Now I live on the Upper East Side near Central Park. When did my life become so fabulous?
Fabulous in that I live with my boyfriend on a tree-lined block 15 minutes from work and have access to wine, groceries, bars, and Starbucks within a block from my apartment. I have a dishwasher. I have AC. I still have a fire escape I can sit on because that's equivalent to a balcony in NYC.
Not so fabulous? It's a 330 square foot studio and I share a tiny closet with my boyfriend. If you saw how much stuff I had (uh, I had FOUR closets in Brooklyn) you would say "nah, IMPOSSIBLE." But I say "mission accomplished." I purged. A LOT.
Our little place fits a queen bed, an uncomfortable futon, a tiny dining table, a dresser, and my bar. The whole place is about the size of my old bedroom in Brooklyn. I built an Ikea bed frame with storage drawers underneath by myself. Girl power.
We also live next to 2nd Ave, where they just opened the new subway line! Do you know what all that construction causes? Mice. We had a little problem when we first moved in...
Nick is terrified of mice. We even had to switch sides of the bed so I was closer to the kitchen where Melvin happily ran around. Melvin was our first mouse and he died an unfortunate death on a sticky trap. Once Margarine came we knew we had a problem. But our super is actually amazing, unlike my slumlord in Brooklyn and she plugged up all the openings with steel wool. We haven't had to name a mouse since!
All that being said, our place is great. I love our little box of an apartment. It's definitely a test of our relationship, especially when he gets up early on Saturdays to work and I'm trying to sleep in the opposite corner. It must be love if I've survived this long without a proper Saturday sleep-in.
More to come!
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