Slacker!

Well, hi. I know I know. That I've fallen down makes me a bit sad but I'm gonna use that tired old "life got super busy and then the economy went to hell excuse." So let's see, where are we? Oh right.

I've lived in the Financial District for almost 4 months now and I LOVE IT. I'm enjoying it so much more than the Upper East Side. No offense at all to the UES -- it's not you, it's me. It turns out that NOT living that close to shopping is much better for my wallet. And while I really miss Central Park I've replaced it with the conglomerate of South Street Seaport-Battery Park-the West Side bike path. My commute to work is much more roomy. Trying to find a lame-ass club has been replaced by visiting one of the local pubs or restaurants. It's probably also the safest neighborhood -- incredibly limited to cars with tons of police around both the World Trade Center and the Stock Exchange. I could go on (and I probably will).

I'll admit it: I get a kick out of telling people that I live on Wall St. Waaaahhhllll street. When I place orders over the phone reps ooh and ahh. Despite the negativity directed towards the stock exchange (two blocks away!) or AIG/AIU/whatever (one block the other way!) Wall Street means something to people. And the superficial side of me gets all buttered up when people coo.

As an added bonus, the Financial District is old New York City. I can give George Washington a very high-five for me/low-five for him if I want on my way past Federal Hall (that is, when they're not shooting lame-ass Domino's pizza commercials there). Many of the streets around me are cobblestone and a proliferation of mounted police officers means I can hear the sounds of the way it used to be. My street is typically pretty dead once Deutsche Bank clears out all the Towncars between 8:30 and 9 PM and I am totally OK with that. I walk out of my building, turn left and have an awesome view of Trinity Church. Just don't try finding a taxi to get home here. You will have to direct them.


And just to rub it in to my former self a bit more...my apartment is 50 times better than my old place. In fact part of the reason why I stopped blogging for a bit was because I honestly thought it was a mirage. I couldn't really be living here. If I said something they would find out (whoever they are) and come drag me out, kicking and screaming the entire way back to dorm-style living in one room. I went to Colorado on vacation and was afraid I'd come back, try to get into my apartment and come to grips with the fact that it was all a dream. But now I have come to realize that yes, I really live in a doorman/elevator building; yes, I really have more than one room; and most importantly yes, I really have a dishwasher.

Not that life is all peaches and cream. I am incredibly rent-poor right now. I knew this and budgeted for it...sort of. I have promised myself not to touch my savings. I had spent the final couple of months at my last job spending myself back into debt. Damn that stress. And really things would have worked out fine at the new place if not for the economy...I would gotten a raise at my 6-month review and maybe even a bonus. Instead I'm just happy to have a job (and one I enjoy to boot! again!) and quietly suffering over bills each month. After rent and expenses I've committed myself to using my disposable income to pay down the cards, but there's not much there. Some nights I can't sleep because I'm so worried about my finances. I don't want to end up like my parents.

I had even considered breaking my lease and moving. But lord I can't do it! The mental health I have gained living in a calm situation is worth saving $1000/mo by moving out to Queens. Really I'm counting my blessings to have this kind of pain to deal with. I know my apartment is below market rate. So I hope to use this time of no disposable money as fodder the next time I want to go spendthirft. For now I'm creatively looking for free events and staying home a lot. But who am I kidding? I'm kind of a homebody anyway. I blog. I code CSS for fun. I play video games. I'm like a 13-year-old boy.

And then the last busy factor came courtesy of a guy or two. No need to get into the messy details, but they're gone now. T is still around and we're currently chatting back and forth about Lost a lot and applying it to our faux relationship. We pretend like NYC is the Island and say really outlandish things. Things like "if I had traveled back in time to 1997 when you were mid-20s and working in the city but had been my current self we would be together!" (me) or "if I had been moved forward in time by the island from 1995 to 2006 in Connecticut we would be co-habitating right now and you'd be pouting about me not inviting you to poker night" (him). Instead we're like Sawyer and Kate -- back in the same place but years apart; him giving me 10 stupid yet endearing nicknames and me giving him exceedingly long glancess without dialogue while corny dramatic music plays. Yep, I'm a geek.