Where’s a Psychic Octopus When You Need One?

I've traipsed all over this city in the sweltering heat looking for a new place to live. I've found some dumps. I've found some snoozers. And I've found some gorgeous apartments.

But so far, I havent found a home.

If I'm being honest, I suppose there's some part of me that is resistent to moving on -- in part because this will be my 3rd move in 5 months (and yes, it is as mentally, physically, and financially exhausting as you might imagine).  But also because I don't even know what I'm moving on FROM, anymore!  I still can't understand what happened, and now, some eye-opening revelations about him from my own family and friends only underscore the fact that the man I thought I would marry never actually existed. 

But I know the only way I'll ever feel like me again is to move on.  And that begins with new digs.

So I ask you, how am I supposed to cram all this new baggage into your standard NYC shoebox apartment? I already had 100 boxes to begin with (no joke).

I've gotten my choices whittled down to a handful. And since my judgement is total crap these days, I've gotten plenty of opinions, too. But what I'm really after is some advice from someone who has built a reputation on picking winners. So here is my open plea to the animal kindgom:

Paul, you eight-legged oracle, will YOU help me choose an apartment?

(and pipe down Mani, the fortunetelling parakeet -- YOU are a cheap knockoff)

In lieu of a country's flag, I respectfully submit colorful subway artwork to help you identify each choice. You probably already know this, given your abilities, but these are ranked in price order from low to high -- not in preference order (don't even get me started on what you get for the money -- if I stayed in CT I could lease a 3BR 2BA apartment AND a car for what I'll pay for an NYC studio).  Oh, and I don't know how you roll in Germany, but you should also know that the following buildings have the basic necessities: a doorman, elevator, air conditioning, laundry and a dishwasher. 

If I could live without those things, I'd go camping.

And now, I place in your plexiglass box the following 6 apartments in a town I sorta love:

Midtown West/Chelsea
Apartment: 32D alcove studio, 540 sqft
Pros: modern building, great amenities, awesome view
Cons: shady-ish neighborhood, closets in a dumb spot, cheap kitchen

Midtown East/Murray Hill
Apartment: 6M studio, 650 sqft
Pros: I know the owner, easy commute, 5 closets
Cons: pre-war, no renovations, mini kitchen used for heating up takeout & not much else

Midtown West/Hell's Kitchen
Apartment: 7B alcove studio, 575 sqft
Pros: corner unit, stainless/granite kitchen, easiest commute
Cons: tourist central, crap view, creepy Peeping Tom window in shower

Upper West Side/Lincoln Center
Apartment: 6D alcove studio, 500 sqft
Pros: new luxury building, I would be the first tenant, cool amenities, great neighborhood
Cons: soooo small

Upper East Side/Yorkville
Apartment: 30F one bedroom, 675 sqft
Pros: bedroom actually has a door, terrace, awesome view
Cons: pain in the ass commute, neighborhood kinda deadsville

Midtown East/Sutton Place
Apartment: 14C one bedroom, 700 sqft
Pros: bedroom has a door AND can fit a dresser, ample closet space, nice amenities
Cons: soooo expensive


So there you have it.  Paul, what say you? Sprechen sie Englisch? Any tingles in your tentacles?

Send me a psychic mesage. If you help me, I promise never to eat calamari again.