by Brittany Geragotelis
So, originally I bought the apartment I'm living in now because my former living situation was not so good. The apartment I was renting had mice and bugs and was a little run down. Then, my living room burned down (due to the negligence of my roommate's douchey ex-boyfriend, but at no fault of my roomie—she's the BEST!!!! Hey, Darcy!) and a lot of my stuff was destroyed, partly due to the fact that the building didn't have fire alarms installed—ANYWHERE in the building.
Finally, when my apartment was broken into while I was away for Christmas vacation (I know, Happy Holidays to me!) and my DVDs and Jewelry were all stolen, my parents and I decided it was time for me to move into a place that was more secure. A girl can only booby-trap her front door (by balancing a cup on top of the doorknob so that if a robber was to break in, the cup would fall onto the floor, thus making enough noise that I would be alerted and would be able to either get out or hide before aforementioned robber was able to attack me) for so long before she says "enough!"
So, with the help of my super-awesome parents, we decided to buy an apartment in the city as a joint venture. A safe place with a doorman that didn't have rodents and that I wouldn't have to worry about feeling uncomfortable in my place of residence. And I loved my place. It's pink (as you can see to the left), totally comfy and girly. And I feel safe...mostly.
Well, the time might be coming for me to make another move. First off, the thing about owning a place in NYC is that most apartments are co-op's, which means that although you technically own the place, what you do in your apartment and to your apartment really isn't your decision. It's the board's decision. Want to renovate? You have to get the OK from other tenants. Wish for one of your friends to stay at your place while you're away on a trip? Well, you may not get permission for that. See...you're paying to own, but you're still controlled by someone else.
As I've gotten older (over the last 5+ years that I've lived in my place), my priorities have begun to change. I'm 31 years old and it's no longer acceptable for another person to tell me when I can have friends over and how I can decorate my apartment. I'm getting sick of paying more a month for my 14x16 apartment than my sister does for her three bedroom house. I don't want to deal with nosy neighbors and mean superintendents and the gossip mill that goes on in an apartment complex.
Did I mention that I think my super is trying to kill me? Yeah, I'm not so psyched about this fact either. My super and I don't exactly see eye to eye. In fact, ever since "Stretch" replaced the building's "Hot Super," I've had numerous confrontations with him...most of which have ended with him yelling at me (He claims he's not yelling and that this is just how he talks. You may "talk" that way all the time, but make no mistake, it's still yelling.) and me bursting into tears out of frustration as I complain to my mom. So, you can see how I was a little bit freaked out when I got home the other day to find that the gas was on in my apartment (by then the whole floor reeked). My super had been in my place that day to fix a leak in my sink and Matt and I had definitely NOT left the burner on. So, it only leaves one possible scenerio....
And then tonight, halfway through my workout of circuit training while watching Wednesday's episode of "Hellcats" (how awesome is that show, btw?!?!), I get a buzz from my doorman, telling me that my downstairs neighbor was complaining about my exercising. Apparently she was wondering if I was jump-roping (I wasn't, but I was jumping around) and was making too much noise. I was furious when I heard this, because I only work out for 40 minutes a day and you're telling me that this girl couldn't chill out for that short amount of time and let me have my workout? After all, the apartment complex IS a shared space and there's GOING to be noise. But you don't see me complaining about the woman across the hall whose cat meows all day and night. Or about the couple down the hall that makes cabbage soup and stink up the place once a week. Or about the family around the corner who have kids that yell and scream. No. I get that we all live in a small space. And besides, that's what fans are for—to drown out the noise of your neighbors.
Long story short, I'm wondering if I need to consider a relocation. This time out of the city and into a real house. Sure, I'd have to commute in and get a car and I'd spend more on transportation, but it might be worth it for the peace and serenity the environment would bring. I don't know....What do you think? Should I stay or should I go?