Is it an apartment or a really big closet?

Only in New York do people spend more than half their salaries to live in apartments that are the size of some people’s closets.

Two years ago, I was living in a 2 bedroom, 3 bathrooms, 2 car garage house that was spitting distance to the ocean. Last year I was living in a 3 bedroom, one bathroom apartment smack dab in the middle of the meatpacking-least be said I think I stayed in from the clubs a total of 10 days the entire year. But here we are now- stripped from the ocean and the clubs, sprawled across my 300 thread count white-linened full size mattress. Two metal doors, 70 decayed stairs and three deadbolts separate me from the streets of life known as Manhattan.

You never really know what it is like to live alone till you actually do it. Living with someone whom spends most nights at their lovers does not count; you do not get the same liberating feeling of flinging your wedge-boots (see below post) half way across the room before loafing around half-naked eating peanut butter straight from the jar. Anyways, back to the point of today’s posting. “Ah ha”, you say. Yes I do have a point and now I will make it.

I am writing this blog because I have found myself in a small Lower East Side one bedroom apartment. For the first time in my life I do not have a constant companion and though I do enjoy the silence I miss the friendly banter of mindless meandering thoughts, and trust me, my mind meanders a lot. So I have decided to write this blog- it will consist of an eclectic selection of items I have recently been thinking about as well as new discoveries throughout my neighborhood (i.e the amazing cappuccino at Falai).

So please join me and my mind as we engage this new experience. I am open to comments as well as suggestions, especially if you have good ideas on how to cram a whole life’s worth of shit into a 400 sq foot space!

Bisous for today!

Does the shoe really fit?

As I faintly make it back up the 70 stairs to my quaint Lower East Side abode I curse the 4.5-inch wedge boots I decided to wear to work today.

Once I regain my composure and my breath I shed the chocolate-colored parcels while my mind races to the question, “are the benefits to heels really worth it, and moreover, what are these said benefits”.

I must admit that I do love the way I feel in sky-high heels. I feel sexy, powerful, and I walk with that much more “swagger”, but when I throw on my gloriously comfortable gel-cushioned Adidas black flats all my confidence boils away and I regain my awkward gait. I admire the girls that can confidently wear flats, for I know I was once caught at Bagatelle in a pair of high-end metallic flats and all night I wanted to crawl beneath the banquettes.

Do we really lose our power when we come down from our astronomically priced high-heeled throne?

I debate whether to get into a discussion on how women feel the need to wear heels to appeal to men, but that simply is a copout for the reason why women wear these dangerous things that throw off our body’s alignment, cause numerous injuries, and break our piggy banks. The real reason women or at least me wear heels is because I adore how I feel in them, plain and simple. I will choose to wear the most uncomfortable heels day in and out just because I feel better about myself in them. Am I crazy? Perhaps, but I guarantee that I am not the only woman in Manhattan that agrees with me.

Instead of tossing in the towel and changing my heels for more practical flats I decide from now on I will just wear socks as I descend and ascend my fifth floor chambers. To every other woman, or drag queen (especially my Danna) if the shoe fits and you love it- rock it girl with all the swagger you can muster!