Moving and Newark is Hell
When I was at the bogeda on the corner the other day, this boy asked my how I liked living in the ghetto. I told him that I'd lived in worse places and then we small talked about how this really is quite a nice neighborhood. Whenever I tell anyone (white) who doesn't live in NYC that I live in Harlem, they give me looks like I'm risking my life on a daily basis and tell me to be careful. But seriously, this is one of the nicest and most expensive places I've lived in, and I don't fear for my life the way I do in Newark right now.
Ah, Newark. We're staying in my father-in-law's basement apartment of a house he rents. He drove me home the other night because we locked our keys in the house and he had to go get them for us. He offered to walk me in and normally I would say no to that because I find it mildly paternalistic but I gladly took him up on the offer and was releived that he searched the apartment while he was there, too. Now, this neighborhood is in an isolated, industrial, dirty area where they're just plunking in these huge, ugly condos and apartments. But it still feels completely deserted, and if I screamed no one would hear me. I went for a walk yesterday to take pictures to document how crappy the neighborhood is (it makes Staten Island look clean), and even though it was broad daylight, still felt sketched out.
This is the house we're staying in.
This is the gate to the back yard...
That is always locked.
And here's the yard.
There must be a city ordinance against grass, because almost all of the grass in the neighborhood is locked up behind fences.
It's funny... the pictures I took do have a certain beauty about them, maybe it was the lighting. But Newark makes the first apartment I lived in in Brooklyn that my mother refused to stay in look like the Ritz.
But it's all good because:
I love my boyfriend
and
we're moving to Seattle in a week.
Ah, Newark. We're staying in my father-in-law's basement apartment of a house he rents. He drove me home the other night because we locked our keys in the house and he had to go get them for us. He offered to walk me in and normally I would say no to that because I find it mildly paternalistic but I gladly took him up on the offer and was releived that he searched the apartment while he was there, too. Now, this neighborhood is in an isolated, industrial, dirty area where they're just plunking in these huge, ugly condos and apartments. But it still feels completely deserted, and if I screamed no one would hear me. I went for a walk yesterday to take pictures to document how crappy the neighborhood is (it makes Staten Island look clean), and even though it was broad daylight, still felt sketched out.
This is the house we're staying in.
This is the gate to the back yard...
That is always locked.
And here's the yard.
There must be a city ordinance against grass, because almost all of the grass in the neighborhood is locked up behind fences.
It's funny... the pictures I took do have a certain beauty about them, maybe it was the lighting. But Newark makes the first apartment I lived in in Brooklyn that my mother refused to stay in look like the Ritz.
But it's all good because:
I love my boyfriend
and
we're moving to Seattle in a week.