I'm Not the Only Thing that's Changed Over the Years

Scroll through the reminiscent jibber-jabber to see more before/after photos of the apartment.

I found these photos of my apartment and realized that it has dramatically transformed over the last four years. I remember looking at the apartment with a broker for the first time. She was supposed to show me "no fee" apartments only, but of course like any conniving broker, she slipped in this apartment like it was some form of GHB. Only, I noticed. And I wanted it. Actually, I debated on getting this apartment for a couple of days. I was nervous to take such an adult plunge. I had never had my own apartment before with a lease in my name. I didn't know if it would be difficult to find a roommate. It was a lot of money just for the broker's fee - I only had the money to pay for it because I still had some student loan money left from the previous semester. I was nervous that I wouldn't be able to walk up six flights of stairs with laundry, groceries, or camera equipment (at the time I was studying video). I was scared, but had to make a decision quickly. I decided to do it despite my fears, knowing that it was too good of a deal to pass up. Are all good decisions prefaced with fear and concern? Or is that just the Snow way?

I'm so thankful that I made that difficult decision to get this apartment. It has been a light, warm, and mostly safe place to live. It has kept me in better shape because I use the stairs so frequently. Since it's located in the East Village of Manhattan, there's a lot of energy surrounding the apartment; however, it's located on the south side of the street so it's as quiet as a New York apartment can be. It's been my home - a place where I feel safe and totally comfortable. I can be myself around it, it doesn't judge me, it likes me for who I am. Heh, heh, it started to sound like I was in love with my apartment so I decided to play off the idea of being in love with it for humorous purposes.

Anyway, Since living here, I've had my fair share of roommates - namely eight. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately (depending on how you look at it), I share a room due to New York's cost of living plus my added student loans. Even though it's rent stabilized, I still pay more for my apartment than my parent's do for their 4 bedroom, 3.5 baths, two story brick home on 1 acre in Georgia. Yes, that's the price you pay for a 450 square foot apartment (with no sink in the bathroom) in New York.

Is it worth it? I dunno. I share a room so my rent is cheaper than if I were to have my own room. But, I don't have my own room, so is it worth it? I dunno. I get to walk outside and immerse myself with all of the things that New York City has to offer. But is New York City the only place to be immersed and what is it offering? I dunno. At the moment, though, I get to work from home. But can't you work from home in any city? These are things I think about everyday whilst sitting in my East Village apartment debating whether or not I should stay in New York. While I love the city (and giving up this apartment would deeply sadden me - not to mention make it impossible for me to move back at the rate apartment costs are rising...unless I become a millionaire), I don't know if Manhattan feels like home anymore.

I recently went to Boston and when I came back, someone made the comment, "ahhh, it feels good to be home." In that moment, for the first time in the four and a half years I've lived in New York I thought, "this doesn't feel like home to me anymore." As the next few months unfold, hopefully I'll reach some kind of conclusion or perhaps something in my life will change, in a similar way to that of my apartment - for the better.



Lauren and I used to air out that rug by opening the window and shaking out the dust. That's now considered a violation in our building. It's a good thing we no longer have a rug.



I killed Fred about a month ago. Fred is the enormous cactus I owned. He got too big for his own britches (he outgrew his pot (meaning a ceramic container)).



We haven't done much to the kitchen. I'm renting, so there's only so much you can do there.



A half bathroom - only there's a tub and toilet, just no sink.



Reghan's been the longest renter thus far (apart from me) and this is her "cave" as we like to refer to it.



The door to Narnia (at least your room has a built-in closet).




My room. Perhaps my love of organizing, right angles, and color is best shown when looking at my closet.