Queens.... christ

Well now I've done it. I've moved to Queens.

I promised myself when I made the choice to move to NYC that I would never, ever join the outer boroughs. It wasn't snobbery or pretentiousness, it was that I'd been here twice in my life, the last time when I was 14. New York scared the hell out of me, even back then and even Manhattan. I'd heard nothing but horror stories; murder in the Bronx, emohipster idealism in Brooklyn, Greek restaurants and terrorist links in Queens and landfills in Staten Island. I never had any desire, inkling, tickle, whatever, to live here. I only moved here because it was the first (and only) job offer I had after moving back from the UK and I needed to move asap. And the only person I knew who knew anything about the city was my sister, who was working with NYU at the time. Granted she commuted from Jersey everyday, but her advice was to absolutely not live above 96th street or in any place other than Manhattan.

However, upon realizing that I was working for a non profit and not an investment bank, making enough to technically qualify for public housing, food stamps and free child care, and didn't have a trust fund, I realized that establishing residence below 96th street was only possible in my situation when it would consist of cardboard boxes and a shopping cart.

If you know anything about NYC, you know that housing here is not only the most expensive in the nation (closely rivaled by San Francisco) but is also, (and this is my own ranking) the most god awful difficult place to find, maintain, like or at least tolerate the housing. It's ridiculous. Ok so you have these Tribeca studio apartments the size of a dorm room that are going for $4000 a month. No joke. I saw one apartment in the Village that was 12x6 with a kitchenette and a shared bathroom that went for $1695 a month. Holy god. I'd rather rely on the random rain shower to cleanse myself than share a bathroom with people who live in the Village. Damn hippies. Especially at the age of 23 (which I was when I moved here). I worked damn hard to get here, I'm not going to live like I'm still with my parents or in college. It was hard enough for me to get a roommate- my first ever, unless you count Blue Light Special for 6 months in college. (ask me about him if you're curious)

I recently read an article in the NY Times about students moving here right out of college who think they'll have a Friends or Sex and the City-type apartment. Ok, to everyone who doesn't live in NYC-- No one looks, acts, works, plays or lives like any of the people in those shows. Women don't march down Bleecker street in stilettos and furs on their way to a charity gala after hopping around sports bars and meeting lots of guys. Sure you might see someone on Bleecker wearing stilettos and furs, but it's more likely to be a transvestite. Far more interesting in my book. People do not work at a coffee shop and have a cute 2 bedroom apartment. Not unless their parents are paying for it (which so many do and it's pathetic). And landlords do not let you paint your walls purple. So these students come here making an average of $36,000 and expect to live in a cute one bedroom with exposed brick walls in the Village. Sure, if you want to spend $3000 a month. (minimum) And landlords here expect you to make 40-50x the monthly rent. Am I making $120,000? No. Therefore I had to get creative… (creative meaning quickly realistic, drastically disappointed with a dash of lowered standards mixed in for good measure.)


Getting an apartment here is an excruciating experience. You laugh, you cry, you laugh, you cry some more… in the end you just find yourself laughing at lot because you've turned into an insane mess and you'll either laugh or dress up in a clown suit and take a rifle up to the top of the Empire State building. I highly recommend the former. Too many tourists at the ESB, it's a mess and no self-described New Yorker actually goes there. But seriously, it's a bloodsport to rent an apartment here. The amount of paperwork you have to have is ridiculous. I need less paperwork to apply for a $40,000 student loan than I do to rent an apartment. Crazy. You have to have every single paper containing every single amount of money you have. I'm talking bank statements, credit reports, W2s, employer's letters, pay stubs etc. I'm surprised they don't expect you to hire someone to come into your house and count the coins in your couch and issue a report on how much you have in there. What fun that job would be. Counting coins. It'd be like Rain Man- The Real Estate Years.

So when I moved here I chose Washington Heights, up at the northern edge of Manhattan and a lovely place consisting of a mix of Orthodox Jews, yuppies and Dominicans. After a year and a half there I made the move south to Harlem, which, needless to say, put me in a minority situation for the first time ever. I loved Harlem though. I never got shot, offered drugs, harassed or bothered, despite the stereotypes. The difference between Harlem and Washington Heights was huge though. In WaHi, you can go to a shop and purchase –no joke-- tires, hair braiding, a broom, malt liquor and a VCR while also cashing a check. Harlem was less diverse… There you can only get Caribbean food while getting your hair braided. However, in Harlem there is such a place as United Fried Chicken where you can get: chicken, burgers, fries, seafood, steak, pizza and ice cream. Wow. All in one little take-out food shop. I had the chicken there once. Didn't feel well for about 4 days.

So upon my tour of Queens, I witnessed the array of culinary delights on Hillside Avenue – the outer borough's version of 42nd street. What we have here is a mix of Filipino, Pakistani and Guyanese cuisine. Quite interesting. I don't even know what Guyanese cuisine would be- but I do know that the supermarket bearing the same geographical reference contained 15 different types of lettuce and about 8 different types of mustard, but no salad dressing, bread, milk or cheese. Is this normal? Is anyone Guyanese? Do they dip the lettuce in the mustard? Is it like chips and dip? Or do you put the mustard in between lettuce leaves like a quesadilla? I'm confused. They did have a United Chicken place, but I don't think they serve pizza. Dear god, what have I done. Where have I moved to?!?!

Queens isn't bad though. As long as you're close to the subway. It's very ethnically diverse and you can buy carpet by the foot at the dollar store. That rocks. In Harlem you can get flip flops at the dollar store though. Those literally account for half my shoe supply. Oh shut up, it isn't skanky. They're flip flops, I'm not spending more than $5 for something like those. I lose half of them under the beds of strange men. Calm down, I'm kidding. Not all of them are strange.
So what am I? I'm no longer a Manhattanite. Am I a Queensanite? That sounds like Cuisinart. That makes me want to blend something. Or I could just call myself a New Yorker. But I don't like the sound of that either. I'll stick to being a Jersey girl. Hey once you got the stank you never go back, right?

I need to hit the supermarket though. I have no cooking gas and no microwave, so looks like I'm going basic for awhile. Probably better for me anyway! Ha, my mom told me to get a crock pot. WTF is a crock pot. I know what a crack pot is. I know what a crock is. I know what pot is. I know who Betty Crocker is. Is it connected? Is this some sort of cake mix… with pot? AH HA! My mom was telling me to make hash brownies! Tsk tsk mom, that ain't cool. I'm telling dad. And I don't live in Harlem anymore, pot'll be harder to score.