moving in new york

I've done a lot of moving. Boxes and tape and vans - all of these items and I have a fair understanding of one another. And yet, I am about to do the traditional StudentSquish, which I have somehow managed to avoid for years by employing the following methods:

A. Leech Off Older Boyfriend
Advisability Level: Low
Snags: Inevitable Break-up; leverage for him in couples-arguments; no personal space
Features: Co-dependency; cozy evenings together; sex whenever; FREE

B. Living with Younger Sibling
Advisability Level: High
Snags: Traditional sibling spats; parents coming over whenever
Features: Parents contributing to rent, food budget; automatic forgiveness for messes, over-use of shower, etc.; general sibling fun & games; someone to complain to

C. Mother's Ex Boyfriend's Apartment
Advisability Level: Medium
Snags: Shady; Apartment-owner dropping in for random weekends; limited stay
Features: Mostly empty apartment; FREE

But for whatever reason, it's all fallen through, and I'm left with option D. Living with Mother as of next week, until my first non-romantic, non-family roommates and I find a place. If you live in New York and you've had to do the StudentSquish, you know why I'm not psyched. For those of you that don't...

Imagine your bed. Is it queen size? Good, that's nice! I have one too. Now I want you to picture it inside of your bathroom. No, no, don't remove the tub. Just don't count that as space for your bed. You can remove the toilet, maybe. But the sink, keep. That's your closet area now. But make sure that the closet door can't be opened unless you shut the regular door. Now that you've got the bed in there (by some miracle), try and fit the rest of your earthly belongings at the foot of the bed. Whatever doesn't fit gets to go under the bed. If you're a musician, forget about having a career - throw your amp, your guitar, and the case away and become something that requires no supplies, like a philosopher.

Done?

Okay, now please cough up 2000 dollars to cover your portion of the deposit. That broom closet down the hall? That's where your roommate lives. And yeah, forget about spilling out into the hall, because that can just barely fit your body. Also, try not to come home past dark, because you're probably going to get repeatedly gangraped or shot. Either that, or you can trek the length of the Sahara in Queens to reach it, should you choose to live somewhere safer, which I know will be really fun for you in the winter.




But at the end of the day, at least I'll be living with cool people - two fellow Neighborhoodies that rock. One of them, Daisy, has been my companion on all of the Sahara journeys so far - all of which have left us dripping gallons of sweat across Ditmars, 48th street, Queens Boulevard, 118th street. And when she pulls open the tiniest closet known to mankind and her eyes open in shock at the size of a growing mold blotch across the back of it...she gives me the biggest conspiratorial smiles. I know that despite whatever microhole we find to hang our hats (and copies of The Complete Works of Shakespeare, and Sanford Meisner's On Acting), we'll find a way to make it great.

In the meantime, I've come to despise craigslist and all flights of stairs.