Bridging the Gap

Took a look at my sublet today. Deciding to take a place from a friend of a friend could be the best decision ever. The process has been simple, with no background or credit checks, no hiccups of any sort, and the place turned out to be as wonderful as advertised. Located in Williamsburg, it's one block away from the subway station and the building looks like an industrial conversion. My temporary landlord had the fullest dreadlocks I'd ever seen on an Asian and I wanted to ask if they were real. That would've been rude of course.

The vibe of the place reminds me of James' decorative style, with comfort, aesthetics, and objects all in fine balance. Turns out Mac is a designer, just like James, which leads me to believe that rooming with these types is good for having your home not resemble a prison, or a generic catalog. Mac knows my friend from high school, or maybe even middle school, and it seems like the apartment will be an ideal settling in location. The friend network successfully strikes again!

I now have a ring full of keys and a move in date next weekend. Here's an AIM convo I was forwarded after my afternoon of reconnaissance:

JG: my buddy just IMed asking if jon was safe. and if he would throw outrageous parties.
JG: i said he might have a few folks over to play scrabble
AN: hahahahhahaha. if you don't want people playing magic or starcraft… then stay away from jon!
JG: hahahahaahahah
AN: tell him that jon is so anal about people wearing shoes in the house cause he sleeps on the floor
JG: it was funny. he said "outrageous parties" and i was like...hmmm, how do i explain jon...
AN: he wrote a book for 12yo girls
AN: wait, that sounds bad, hahahaha
AN: he has blogging parties
AN: his dream is to live at an internet cafe

Afterwards I met up with Mary on a side of Chinatown I was unfamiliar with, almost the East Village, away from all the restaurants and shops on Canal. This part of Chinatown has towering housing projects, a lot of Hasidic Jews, and one dollar dumplings, which are all the rage recently in my food blogs. I assumed they were a buck per dumpling but as it turned out, for one dollar you get five pieces. The rest of the menu was similarly priced, with a big bowl of wonton noodle soup costing only three dollars. As I waited for Mary to show up post-yoga, I watched the line of people flow in and out of the dumpling place. Black, white, Latino, Asian, young, old. It was a regular Black Eyed Peas' joint.

While eating a cheap meal is glorious and the food was delicious, I couldn't help feeling terrible for the plight of the dumpling makers. A few ladies were right behind the counter rolling and chopping away and I wanted the dumplings to cost more than they did. Maybe they'd be able to work less, or the store could make more, or as Mary put it, "Grandma could go home and get some rest." There's some celebration in finding tasty food that won't rip a hole in your wallet but when it comes at the expense of your people, I'd almost rather pay a premium. Then again, I happily indulge in cheap burritos and McDonald's so there's some faulty logic at work here. Basically I'm a socio-economic racist probably.

Mary's friend lives in a great apartment right next to the park, and it's easily the nicest apartment I've seen in Manhattan. Not boring nice as in marble floors and chandeliers, but nice as in well appointed, with high ceilings and space that feels open and wide -- a rarity I think. A few of the people behind my favorite blogs live in Chinatown and I'd always wondered where they were. I'll find out soon since I'm actively going to be stalking them but until I actually find out, I imagined that Chinatown would be a terrible place to live. Despite its ideal central location, being that close to tons of crazy Chinese people would drive me, well, crazy. But with the edges of Chinatown quickly gentrifying, maybe it's a place I should look into living. One dollar dumplings steps away from my door would be appealing.

The first time I learned about the word "gentrification" was from Mary and her liberal arts school sirens, while I was visiting her in Scotland. They said it was a buzz word I needed to know. "When in doubt, cite 'gentrification!'" Since I went to a public university I didn't know that, and being from the suburbs of San Diego, I'm pretty sure I had no idea what gentrification was in concept or execution. Now it's the evil urban word of the decade. I can't wait to contribute my (hopefully very small) part to the process.