Obama Would Be Proud of You.

What's worse than realizing the people you're subletting from will be home at 9:30 a.m. on the morning you're moving out? Their plane coming in early (when does that happen?) and having them show up at 6:50 instead.

We moved on Saturday and when we realized the tenants were coming home in the morning, we orchestrated an impressive exit strategy to be out by about 8:30-ish.

Noah and I stayed up late Friday night packing as neatly as possible and cleaning every inch of the apartment. But that still didn't distract from the fact our packed stuff took up half the apartment and there were two free couches standing upright in the living room. Not "we've destroyed your home in your absence" type of stuff, but also not what you want people to come home to after being away from their home for a month.

We woke up at 6:30 so Noah could be on the subway by 7:00 to pick up the rental truck in Long Island City the minute Ryder opened its doors. Noah left around 6:45 and a minute or two later, I dragged myself out of bed and descended the ladder from the loft just as my phone started to ring. I answered to hear Noah explain he'd just received a call from the tenants. As he left the apartment, he noticed a cab pull up and two guys begin to unload luggage. Employing the always-successful "if I ignore it it's not true" mentality, Noah kept his course and picked up the pace toward the subway. But he received a call a moment later explaining they were home, ("oh really? I never even noticed you as I ran past trying to ignore you... :)") and waiting in the deli next door. They know they're early, don't worry about rushing, but could they please drop their stuff off in the apartment?

As Noah is briefing me on the situation, it was literally like one of those scenes from a movie where the camera zooms in on the person's face to convey panic and makes it feel like the walls are closing in (I mean uber-cheesy 1980s cult classics, of course). In that moment, no task seemed surmountable... "I have to put in my contacts!" "Wash the two glasses in the sink! They can't come home to dishes in the sink!" "Where is my bra?!" (Okay, the last one was viable.)

After the initial shock wore off, I scurried next door to the deli, introduced myself, welcomed them home and ran off to the laundromat to throw in a load. And it really was uphill from there. Noah came back just as our amazing friends, the Andersons, showed up to help us haul things out. The tenants came back from breakfast and helped with the last few bags and we were out the door and moved in to our new place before 10:00 a.m.

Tabbi and Kami were in town from D.C. and were so sweet to offer to help us move in. Because we ended up way ahead of schedule, they got there after our stuff was all in, but just in time for us to throw them into the back of a Ryder truck as we drove downtown to pick up a mattress. Ah, always the classy hostess.

Our mattress ended up costing an additional $115 when we had to factor in the cost of a parking ticket on Wall Street. Highway robbery! So I was feeling a little blue about our expensive escapade and turned to my favorite source of comfort - free stuff on Craigslist.

I figured we had the truck for the entire day, we'd better make that baby work! I hopped on Craigslist, ready to sift through the typical stuff, when I found something beautiful. I am not ashamed to admit I squealed. I replied to the seller and my hands were shaking a little bit as I typed, "I can literally pick this up right now. I have a truck and can be there in 20 minutes." (For this is how you win the free stuff game. Possession is 10/10ths of the law.) He called back and we were officially the proud new owners of a sage green microfiber chaise lounge and an awesome black/distressed armoire. To make the drive to the Upper East Side really worth our while, we decided to splurge a whole $100 for a solid wood sleigh bed (hey, big spender...) that was also for sale in the same neighborhood.

We drove our loot back to our place and just as we parked, this gentleman on the street (who probably would have made me nervous in a dark alley...) came over and asked if we needed a hand moving the stuff. My fierce independence usually impedes this type of behavior, but I knew Noah would probably like me a little less after having to move heavy furniture with me as a partner. So I accepted the man's kind offer and he helped us haul everything out of the truck, into the building and right up to the apartment.

We were so touched by his kindness - in fact, we were blown away by the kindness of so many people that day. It seems New Yorkers get a bit of a bad rap for being inconsiderate or flat-out rude, but it has not been our experience for one minute.

While he was helping us haul furniture from the truck, his friend noticed and came over to lend a hand. When he continued to help haul the stuff into the building, his friend said, "Hey... hey, man. You are a good citizen, man. Obama would be proud of you." Yes, yes - I believe he would.

I Will Laugh Every Time I Sit On the Couch

I'm quickly learning that NYC furnishings and decor are not a reflection of one's taste, necessarily. But rather, a reflection of one's resourcefulness.

I think I'm pretty decent at the game (90% of our Utah home furnishings were Deseret Industries, black paint and sandpaper, after all), but New York - you sly devil with your public transportation, narrow hallways and sixth-floor walkups - you are a trickier opponent.

Perhaps we hit a new low, but I'm not ashamed to admit it as we're now the proud owners of two free couches, a great unit of shelves and another evening of hilarity to add to our arsenal.

I noticed a few free couches on Craiglist that were actually in pretty decent condition and -remarkable! - the owner lived just 1.5 blocks away. We went by after work, affirmed that they were in relatively good condition and did not reek of an identifiable (or worse, unidentifiable) odor and hauled them - in a comical blend of total white trash and Banana Republic business casual - down 10th Avenue to their temporary crash pad (we're moving to our real place on Saturday).

The loveseat made the trip without a hitch. But the larger couch proved to be a little much for my quivering forearms so there were a lot of pauses and readjustments between my bursts of laughter at the situation in general.

The whole ordeal hit a real high when a group of guys walked by and one said to the others, "pivot... pivot..." Hands-down my favorite Friends quote of all time. I was ready to throw the quote out at the opportune time, but thank you, random stranger, for beating me to the punch.

My forearms held in there until we got to the front door of our apartment and our uber-narrow hallway which posed a new threat - nowhere to tilt. Noah maneuvered and tilted with the best of them, the opposite end of the couch thudding against our across-the-hall neighbor's door while I tried my best to stifle my laughter. I could hear our neighbor shuffling around his kitchen (entryway, dining room, it's all one room, really) and I desperately fought off the ensuing church-giggle, knowing our paper-thin walls would have made it sound like I was standing right beside him. I didn't want him getting curious about the commotion and flinging open the door just in time to see my head literally pressed against his door trying to shift the couch just one... more... inch.

Finally, I decided it wisest to let the heretofore stranger neighbor in on our couch conquest and ask him if we could swing the couch into his doorway to allow for that extra inch of tilt. To which he kindly obliged.

And now we have two couches standing upright in what used to be the only walking room in the apartment (for, where else would you have me put them?) and we also know our neighbor. So, win-win.

Guatemala - Quatro, Cinco, Seis, Etc.

I'm disappointed in myself for not recapping this trip more quickly or in better detail. Because truly, it was an incredible trip - gorgeous scenery, fun experiences, the most warm-hearted people and phenomenal tour guides (Christopher and the Choc family). Here is my next-best: Guatemala at warp speed.

In beautiful Antigua...

where we saw famous arches...
got in touch with our inner-animal...
and the missionary still wouldn't come within 10 feet of me. (Sorry Christopher, I have to give you a hard time for this. This is how you know this kid was a good missionary!)

Next to Tikal...

where we climbed ancient ruins...
risked our lives summiting Temple 5 on the steep wooden ladder of death...
and Noah "Steve Irwin" Riley spotted all the really rare animal life.
(no clear photos to document it, however. You would just think it's the trees. But for real, monkeys, toucans and some sort of anteaterish thing - RIGHT above our heads.)

Then to Flores, for this view...

lychees...
caving (where Allison tests a new picture pose and ends up just looking like she has stiff mannequin arms)...
and a zoo where a monkey grabbed my finger and the jaguar probably could have made a running leap for it.

From there, it was off to one of the country's many volcanoes for one of those "we know we're not in the U.S. because we are literally climbing to the crater of an active volcano and nobody is telling us not to" moments. You know the type.
This picture is at the base before we climbed and does not fully evoke dangerous emotions, I know. But climb we did - on hands and knees at some points - on the dry lava flow, steam rising from its cracks, to the tip-top. Close enough that you start to think, "we are so dumb" every time you feel the rumble from the belly of the beast.

Our last stop was Lake Attitlan and the village of San Pedro...

where we stayed in the lovely Hotel Attitlan...

with a gorgeous view of Lake Attitlan...
and mingled with the locals (this guy was literally outside our door)...bought a skull for Spencer, like any good co-worker would do...

and saw impressive feats of human head strength.

It's good to be home... for, uh, three months now.

Found It!

After learning the hard way and letting a great little one bedroom on the Upper East Side slip through our clutches, we realized apartment hunting in NYC is not: "oooh, good option! Let's gather five or six more and weigh pros and cons before we decide." More like: "I could live here. Could you live here? Great. Quick – offer them our first born.”

So we were thrilled when we looked at approximately 15 apartments one afternoon, settled on one *if memory served* we liked best, negotiated an even lower price (score!), applied, got it and went back to find… ah, we really did like that one after all.

Yesterday afternoon, our bodies completely devoid any semblance of rigorous physical activity for the past four weeks, we decided to run to our new place to get the keys from our super. We wanted to check out a rug for sale at 92nd and 2nd, so we ran that direction from our current spot in Hell’s Kitchen first before making our way back to our new pad in West Harlem. If you are familiar with Manhattan, you will know this means we rock. Six miles on the heels of a full month’s inactivity. It doesn’t hurt, however, when that route means cutting through lovely Central Park twice and the fact that the tiny north/south blocks make counting blocks much more interesting than my run home in Salt Lake… “tttthhhhhiiiiirrrrrrrddd, fffffoooooouuuuurrrrtttthhhh…”

I won’t bore you with too many apartment details, (clearly, I have reserved that right for recounting boring running stories) but I’ll give you a run-down of the stats:

Newly remodeled (new appliances, paint, floors)
New bathroom, new kitchen – implied in the remodel, but worth mentioning twice because, hello, new bathroom and new kitchen. Are there many more sanity-saving things on this planet?
2-3x the size of anything we’ve seen
Least expensive apartment we viewed. Period.
Huge bedroom
Closet space
Full kitchen
Top floor
SUNLIGHT
Plenty o’ room for guests (that, ahem, means you)
Great neighborhood
Parks
Free aerobics at the recreation center nearby
Cheap(er) grocery stores in the ‘hood

As we sat catching our breath on the floor of the apartment yesterday, I realized we’d better get used to those seats for a time. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for the inflatable mattresses for Christmas – because at least we will have something to sleep on. But this is going to be a pretty vacant space for a little while.

Pictures are forthcoming. But if you shut your eyes and imagine a big empty room, off to the side picture a big empty kitchen and on the opposite side imagine a big empty bedroom and bathroom. There you have it. Home sweet home.

Finally, A Post With Pictures - Really Good Ones.

I've probably belabored the point too much already, so I apologize if this song is getting a little old. But I tell ya - it's a bummer to put a lot of energy into a home you love just to pick up and leave six months later.

However, thanks to its prime photo spots and Ashley's unbelievable talent (peeps - this gal also has her master's in accounting and her CPA - hello, left-brain/right-brain - and she fits into a 2 post-kids; you have my permission to envy) we have some beautiful photos of us at our place.


It probably seems like a really little thing. But a sister who will take these photos and then run upstairs, change into work clothes and help you pack and move, then go home and delve even more hours into these photos just for us really means the world. I know I'm going to treasure these photos of us and our first home for a long time to come.


Ashley actually snapped this one of us during a Sunday visit last fall. Not the most flattering of me (I'm not a very graceful snuggler...) but I do love this shot of us in our home. And that man of mine is pretty darn handsome.

Participantsless

We secretly hoped that by moving to Manhattan, we’d become famous.

Little did we know it would be the FIRST weekend here.

To be honest, I was so distracted by the kid with the camera in my face that I hardly even noticed the men in their undies.

You’re intrigued now, huh?

Home is Where You... Use the Communal Restroom

Apartment hunting on a tiny budget in one of the priciest cities on the planet is a lot of fun. It's good blog fodder at least.

When our pittance of a rent budget got us laughed out of the Village – well, maybe not laughed; try “slightly heated debated” us out of the Village – we looked next to the Upper East Side. We found a few interesting prospects and met a few equally interesting brokers.

Favorite Broker of the Day:
Richard (name has not been changed to protect the innocent. this is really his name and typically I shy away from calling strangers out on the blog, but seriously – who’s going to find him among the 39,000 brokers in the city?) who smells of cough drops and tobacco shows us a small studio off 3rd Ave with a lovely fold-out-of-the-wall plywood table, nice touch. He determines it’s a little small for us and tells us to meet him in 20 minutes at another building where he has two apartments available. He shows us the unit on the third floor and invites us to check out the one on the fourth, he’ll wait here to give us some privacy. So we run upstairs, door is locked, head back downstairs just in time to hear “flush.” Turns out, it was Richard who needed the privacy. Bear in mind, this is a vacant apartment. We’re talkin’ no soap and water. We didn’t shake Richard’s hand when we left.

So Close, Should Be A Tie Runner-Up:
James shows us a ridiculously huge apartment further north. I wish I felt better about the ‘hood, because this is a crazy amount of space. Noah and I would both be able to spin around with our arms outstretched and not hit each other. James is a super-friendly guy, but tells us how he doesn’t feel good about the couple who just looked at it because they talked too much, then proceeds to chatter for about 20 minutes without either of the Riley duo getting a word in edgewise. The conversation is laced with general profanity throughout, but garnered raised eyebrows from moi when he described the management’s reaction by flipping us off and dropped the f-bomb when he talked about “messing” with people he thinks are high maintenance by enticing them to a scream of a deal near Central Park that is actually really disgusting and has a common restroom in the hallway. Yeah, that’s super funny.

Achmed and his bro are looking better and better all the time.