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On Lawrence’s recommendation, I checked out Time Out New York for some local info on our new surroundings. I clicked on an article called 50 Best Blocks in New York. Guess who’s #20!

20 11th Street between Prospect Park West and Eighth Avenue, Park Slope, Brooklyn

This peaceful street, lined with pristine brownstones and just off Prospect Park, is a quick jaunt from the commercial happenings on Seventh Avenue; it provides the best of both Brooklyn worlds.

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Yay, us!

A Park Slope encleve less than a mile from us made #6 on the list:

6 Montgomery Place between Prospect Park West and Eighth Avenue, Park Slope, Brooklyn

Strolling down Montgomery Place induces a museumworthy trance. Stunning brownstones, old-world apartment buildings and a terra-cotta-colored minimansion fill this tranquil block-long street off Prospect Park. Leafy trees and planters full of colorful blooms add a pristine touch, while the mix of imposing late-19th and early-20th century limestone and brick buildings flaunts grand detailing. Arched doorways, curved staircases and a stained-glass oval suggest you’re in a European fairy tale more than a bustling Brooklyn neighborhood. Lucky residents who tire of the solitude are mere minutes from Seventh Avenue’s action and the Grand Army Plaza Greenmarket.

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I feel so vindicated having put down a deposit on the third apartment I saw.

In tangentially related news, Curtis and I opened a joint checking account today, from which we’ll pay the bills. Scary.

There once was a couple in the city,
Who had no possessions, what a pity.
On a truck it was stuck,
And boy did it suck —
The only thing around was the kitty.

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There once worked a girl in Manhattan,
Who looked o’er the Isle of Staten.
She got in a cab,
Felt all shiek and fab,
Until the driver’s fart her did flatten.

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There once was a couple I met
Who constantly worked on the Net.
No signal they had
In their brand new pad,
So they mooched anything they could get.

Warning: This post reads like I’m some starry-eyed kid who has come to NYC to pursue a dream. That may be what I am, but I want say I’m aware of how annoyingly blissful this post sounds, and acknowledge I’ll be bored and jaded very soon.

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I can see the Verrazano Bridge and ground zero from my desk, and the Statue of Liberty from another corner of my office floor. I travel by subway under the East River to work, and by yellow taxi over the Brooklyn Bridge on the way home. I get to work for a company I respect — one the rest of the world respects too. I get to live with my wonderful boyfriend and his mostly tolerable cat, in a cute little neighborhood that’s a dash of Berkeley, a pinch of Santa Monica and a whole heap of Brooklyn. I get to sleep in, stay out late, wear gloves and hats, and feel like I’ve got a real fresh start for once.