440 Lorimer Street. Back to Brooklyn. I wore the same green dress all the time, and supported myself handing out flyers in Times Square for an off-Broadway show about Elvis. I had to wear a poodle skirt. I spent all my earnings on cheap wine and cocaine.
I feel eerily calm observing the lives of strangers.
Jimmy claimed he lived in a loft because of the ceilings, but it was definitely a studio.
Cleanliness: Disaster. Didn’t own bed sheets.
House Rules: If you were dressed better than him (read: wearing a shirt and anything but flannel pajama pants), he’d make fun of you.
Would you stay there again?: You avoid his block altogether.
Place your mirrors on doors and in other places. Mirrors make us think that we’re looking farther than we actually are.
You’ve worked that crappy job for a while now, you’ve paid your dues, and you finally have enough money to take the first step toward adulthood. But before you make the big move, you should know a few things.
I didn’t want to believe this shit, but the ceiling shuddered again and I had become a little bit more open to crazy ideas at this point.
It’s been six years, but I feel like it just happened yesterday.
Tinder boys are bad. This is self-explanatory, but it needs to be said. Even the good ones are usually bad news in some way or another. Steer clear.
It’s ok to check the mail once every two weeks. Who is mailing you things anyway? Sorry, Grandma.
A bath product that is deemed “too fancy” to use. It will be stored in the cupboard or displayed somewhere until the end of time.