Right after we moved into our sublet, I sent out an email to some friends containing a few first impressions. I thought I'd share that here as well.
So, we successfully moved to Brooklyn. There were a few frantic hours
back in Hillsdale where our belongings began to reproduce, and I
really believed we'd never empty the house, but it happened. Clark
was a little angel in the car. He either slept, looked out the
window, or played with toys the whole way--all eleven hours. No
screaming or endless fussing or a single tantrum. We arrived about
four in the afternoon yesterday, and were meeting Lucy, the woman
we're subletting from, at 7, so we got a parking spot right in front
of the building and walked around to get familiar with the
neighborhood. I was so relieved to actually see our street. It's
very clean, and the houses are really pretty, and lots of people even
have little gardens in the front. The neighborhood looks nice too. I
saw so many great shops in the little time we spent exploring--delis,
a fish market, Italian markets, butcher shops, green grocers,
bakeries--I can't wait to get settled in enough to start cooking with
all the fabulous ingredients I'll have at hand! We ate dinner at a
really yummy and very reasonably priced Thai place, and then headed
back to the apartment, even though it was really early.
We met Lucy, who is extremely friendly if a little all-over-the-place,
and she showed us her apartment. The rooms are much larger than I had
thought, and it's a bright and sunny place. Again, I was relieved
about that. I gotta say though, for the most part I can't stand her
taste. For instance, in the living room, there is a six foot by four
foot oil on canvas, a portrait of Elizabeth Taylor in turquoise and
black, with large red letters stenciled on saying "FUCK YOU." Not
ever something I would choose for my own home, I must say. Also on
the list of things I would not choose: the holograms in the bathroom
of women who are alternately clothed and naked depending on the angle,
and the porn star refrigerator magnets. I removed the holograms and
magnets, but Lucy warned us to be careful with the painting, as it was
worth $10,000, and it took a lot not to say, "But it swears at you
every day!"
Bob is returning the rental van right now, and Clark is napping, and
I'm desperately trying to ignore the giant f you on the wall and write
this email. All of our stuff is in piles on the floor, so after weeks
of packing, it is already time to unpack, but this time into somebody
else's apartment already full of their stuff. I really feel like we
are guests here, but there's no point in trying to make it home when
we're leaving in two months anyway. The weather is gross and rainy,
and I want it to clear up so that when Clark wakes up, we can go out
and buy food. He loves to be outside--he's never seen so many trucks
up close in his life, and it thrills him. There are also birds
everywhere, and people walking dogs--everything you could ask for to
entertain a toddler.
