Tuesday May 17 marked my one-year anniversary with Planned Television Arts. In one year, I moved to New York, got my dream starter job, and was promoted from Social Media Coordinator to Social Media Manager (thanks, Jeff). At work, I’m happy. Great assistant, great coordinator.
At home, not so much. My roommate and I, a friend of my sister’s since youth, were simply not on the same page. Our early experiences living together were filled with passive aggression and hostility. As we both dealt with our respective issues, tension eased, and our friendship healed, but it was clear to us both that in order for us to go on as friends and not frenemies, or worse, just plain enemies, one of us had to move.
My roommate spends more time in Manhattan than in Queens, as his lovely boyfriend lives and works there. For him, location relative to safety was more important than location relative to safety and nightlife. I’ve grown to really enjoy Astoria, but would prefer to be closer to the action — bars, cafes, shops — and so along with one of my good friends, I decided to start looking for apartments.
Our mission seemed simple at first. A two-bedroom apartment within walking distance (ie: so we did not have to take a bus to the train) of the NQ/R. We were originally hoping to avoid working with brokers, but after an almost scam from an ad on Craigslist, we opted to invest one month’s rent toward a broker’s fee and ended up using A-Class Realty.
After a few small-scale, pre-broker breakdowns, we found a perfect apartment, located by some of the hippest things Astoria has to offer.
Wish me luck, as my weekend has and will be spent packing my life (ie: real world things I’ve accumulated over the past year) away into boxes that I smuggled out of the office, and my move will be complete on Wednesday, June 1.