THIS WEEKEND I'M HEADED up to New York City to look for an apartment. I'm sure it's going to be a treat and am fully planning to traipse all over the West Side of Manhattan. If that woman from my school's off-campus housing office is correct, my goal of finding a place to live is sad, absurd and laughable, so you all need to cross your fingers for me.
What is it about an impending move to New York that makes everyone feel like they need to tell you horror stories about apartments and moves? Over the past few weeks I've heard more stories about moving back in with your parents, the untold pleasures of living in converted closets, and weeks of couch surfing. I've gotten advice on how to deal with corrupt brokers and the best places to store your belongings in the inevitable occurrence that you wind up homeless for a few weeks. All of the conversations inevitable end with a chipper, "I'm sure you'll find a place, though!"
If I do wind up finding an apartment, I'll flat out dance for joy. I'll bust a joyful Gwen Verdon.
[Thanks O for suggesting this brilliant YouTube video mashup.]
Gwen Verdon - Walk It Out
Fosse also invented crypt walking.
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