Happy Monday! Here's a little Andre for you.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
That's exactly what we have below: a very bright one bedroom with a wrap terrace on 55th Street and Fifth Avenue. It is newly renovated, has a windowed kitchen with new appliances and a large bedroom with northern and southern exposures, as well as multiple access to the deck. It's also only $3275 a month, a deal, especially if you are one person in need of a bachelor pad.
Full specs here.
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
If, on the off chance, two years into the financial meltdown you still don't quite understand how everything played out, then I highly recommend reading this book.
It's chick lit, but it's chick lit done well. It's also a wonderfully voyeuristic (and realistic) portrayal of life on the moneyed Upper East Side, right down tot he competitive preschooling and slightly absentee fathers.
Best part: It's written by Alexandra Lebenthal, of Lebenthal & Company. I tore through it in three days, often keeping TR up since I had the lights on.
Friday, August 20, 2010
I grabbed an iced coffee and a sandwich and was thankful that I found a seat in the very crowded cafe. I finished in 15 minutes and then went to grab the bus -- which is when I noticed my wallet was no longer in my bag. Egads!
It wasn't just a wallet. It was actually a red Coach wristlet/clutch that was a gift, and one that I very much liked. I don't usually carry cash, but the thief got $200 off me. I went to a Christening this weekend and in my haste to get on the train to Connecticut, I forgot a gift. After Starbucks I was en route to Hallmark to get a card to send one of those hundred dollar bills off. Sorry, Laura! Reagen will get her gift soon enough! They also got my driver's license, my real estate license, an unlimited Metro Card that I bought this afternoon, a bunch of receipts that I needed to expense and my New York Junior League membership card. Now I can't buy drinks in the Pine Room!
Earlier in the day my passport had been in there as well, but I took it out before meeting the client. Praise Allah.
The irony is that I have lived in Manhattan for eleven years. I have never been mugged. I have walked home alone at every hour of the night -- often full of drink -- and I have never had a problem. I went out on dates with men that I met online long before it was considered a good idea to do such a thing -- and I never had a problem. My general absence of fear is well documented, and often lauded among my friends.
And yet I got my wallet stolen right out from under me on 66th Street and Third Avenue, a safe block if there ever was one.
That said, I must offer a great big middle finger to the thief who stole my wallet. May explosive diarrhea find you early and often.
Also to the barista who, when I came back in clearly flustered after realizing my wallet was gone, told me not to call the police, because "It's not Starbuck's fault." Again with the diarrhea.
Interestingly, while filing the police report at the 19th Precinct, just a block away, the detective told me this was the second Starbucks pick pocketing on the Upper East Side in a week. The other was on 84th Street and Third. As I left, I thanked him for his help, and I suggested that his crew stay out of that Starbucks. There are thieves among us!
"That's why you go to Dunkin' Donuts, kid," he said. Cops rock.
Monday, August 16, 2010
Friday, August 13, 2010
Thursday, August 12, 2010
The Upper West Side makes me feel like I'm a graduate student at Columbia again, as if I should be a little more caffeinated and reading something academic instead of, say, my chic lit book du jour. Whenever I walk around I have an overwhelming sense of guilt for not being better versed in the current week's New Yorker, or my lack of support for NPR. It's a place that has always struck me as being a little sleepy, what with all the strollers and the nannies. (Even though I have both a stroller and a nanny, Murray Hill is hardly sleepy, considering all the drunk frat boys and its proximity to Grand Central Station.)
After going over my clients with my boss, and looking for ways to tweak my business, I realized that I've been doing well with couples, large one bedrooms and an average price of about $3000. So why limit myself to just the East Side? I took the 2/3 train to 72nd Street and decided to see what was up there.
This is what's up there: A Classic 7 (yes, seven) in a doorman building on West End Avenue. High floor. $9950. If you put this same apartment on the East Side it would be closer to $15,000. (Trust me on this one.)
Need a backyard? A little farther south on 48th Street and Ninth Avenue is this very large one bedroom with a backyard that is the same size as the apartment. Gut renovation, new floors, new bath, new kitchen and very high ceilings. $2595. Insane deal and a really good pick if one works in Midtown, a la Morgan Stanley, Barclay's etc. Short walk to work while escaping the chaos of Times Square.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Sunday, August 08, 2010
I've been meaning to post these photos for a while, but in the summer I sometimes get tunnel vision and do nothing but work. Hiss, boo.
New York City is abundant with playgrounds -- and spraygrounds -- but a few weeks ago I discovered this green oasis. It's a public playground and greenhouse attached to one of the NYU rehabilitation hospitals on 34th Street and First Avenue. You have to walk through the lobby in order to get into it. Inside is a real garden with all sorts of toys for little kids. It's the kind of backyard one might find in the suburbs, except as a Manhattanite I don't have to deal with the upkeep or pay for all the wagons and yard toys.
TR pulls the boy in a wagon
In the swing
Andre loves the little cars they have in the garden
He's a little confused, however, as to how they actually work.
Despite all the real flowers, Andre liked the ones that spin
Inside the greenhouse there are all sorts of birds. One even talks!
This one had lots of personality
What is a greenhouse without a koi pond?
Thursday, August 05, 2010
Yet, it hasn't rained since, what, Easter?
Which brings me to my theory (of which I always have many): I think that weathermen are telling us it's going to rain, to give us false hope in this soul-deadening heat. Because if we looked at the forecast and only saw oppressive heat, morale would sink lower than it is in Manhattan. But if you dangle the chance of a refreshing shower in front of the masses, we have a false glimmer of hope that the heat may subside. And so we carry on.