Here We Go Again

We are moving at the end of the month. Out of our neighborhood and into the great unknown: Queens. The moving part was inevitable. Our space is closing in on us and it's making me one cranky biotch. The where to part of the equation has been a heated topic of debate round these 900 sq ft. Do we buy? Rent? Move to the suburbs?

Last week my sister called and said there was a three bedroom apartment for rent in her building. Mind you this was after we had brunch at our friends' loft in Williamsburg that was sick. Sick as in, swing inside the apartment. As in, huge dining room table with two benches. As in, they are both graphic designers so of course their space is gorgeous and inventive and we are so jealous. The day before we had a playdate (one of H's little friends whose parents are our little friends) on the Upper West Side in an equally sick apartment. Sick as in, a foyer that was larger than our living room. As in, Will & Grace-sized rooms (and I swear, I don't even watch that show). As in, full-on views of the Hudson River. As in, the husband said to me on the 15-minute long grand tour, "So I am sure you know, this is a classic six." To which I replied, under my breath, "Yeah. Classic."

Is that jealousy you detect in my tone? Why, yes. Yes it is.

I just want more space. Real rooms. A place to put our desk that's not our bedroom if you know what I mean and I think you do.

So anyway, back to the phone call from my sister. We went right over and decided that we liked it. How could we not? THREE BEDROOMS, PEOPLE! EAT IN KITCHEN! DINING AREA! SUNKEN LIVING ROOM! THIRTY THOUSAND WALK-IN CLOSETS! Do you see where I am going with this?

We signed the lease today.

I'm sad to leave this neighborhood. But ready to start anew. And it'll be so very Brady Brides to live in the same building as my sister. I'm currently accepting treatments for a sitcom based on our circumstances.

So here we are at T minus 22 days and counting before doing what we do so well: pack up and move. We've now done it four times in six years. Anyone want to help?

Comments

[Mr Fits Himself]

I'll help.

But please, let's settle down for awhile. It's a little embarrassing that the Post Office keeps sending us blank Change of Address forms every six months.

And moving companies have been calling me on my cell.

Here's to us, the newest Forest Hillbillies.

[Johnny]

Ummm, isn't this a two-fer? A built-in babysitter you live next door too?! Sweet!

[Jo]

I'm so jealous. But excited for you! May you be very happy in your new home. Does the dog get his own bedroom now?

[Brooklyn Mama]

Aw, damn. But Great for you! I guess it's too late to interest you in Kensington, huh? Good luck on the move and hooray for closet space!!

[walein]

Any treatment will do as long as you don't cast Michael Rappaport as Mr. Fits Himself...maybe Henry Rollins (with dyed hair of course)?

[Amyesq]

Kick ass!! That sounds wonderful. Three bedrooms - you peeps aren't going to know what to do with the extra space. And you can't beat being so close to the sister. (Hopefully Mr. Fits is cool with living so close to an IL)

-Amy
Who lives in CA and has no idea what a "Classic Six" is but knows it sounds very fancy.

[Mr Fits Himself]

LOVE the ILs! Their proximity scored big points in favor of moving.

T.

PS: I was there to hear him say "Classic Six," and didn't know what it meant. All I could think of was some meathead saying "Yeah, I gotcher classic six... right hee-yah."

[Amy/grrlTravels]

I think this means you must be moving...right this minute. Hope it is going well and you love your new space!