Marching Bands of Manhattan

So this past weekend marks my official move to the "city", because as I've been told, you can't say you live in the "city" until you physically live on the isle of Manhattan. I'm now the proud renter of a room in a 3-bedroom place in Battery Park City.

I really did not enjoy the move from Brooklyn as my father spent most of the time convincing me that my furniture/bed would not fall out the back of his truck, where it lay, without being strapped down, as we catapulted through the Battery Tunnel several times. He's got this way of being right a lot. Must be where I get it from...

The only slight "hiccup" thus far came Saturday night/Sunday morning as I awoke at 5 am to the sound of my Irish almost-roommate (she leaves in October) screaming "woo hoooooooo" at the top of her lungs. I didn't mind the late arrival really, as it was Saturday and I was out til 330 myself. But, my mom was coming the next day and I really couldn't sleep until noon like I wanted to. So I went to "get a glass of water" and was spotted by the partying Irish. "Have a beer, screw that water!" "Come sit down with us, it's early!" to which I responded "Wish I could, mom's coming..... need to sleep." "That sucks! We'll keep it down." First potential confrontation was handled very well and there was no issue at all.

Coming from living on my own in Brooklyn to sharing an apartment with 2 other people shall be quite the adjustment. However, so far, so good and I'm looking forward to getting to know these new people. Now that I'm officially a "city-dweller", I don't want to hear any crap about hanging out: "Dude, Brooklyn is far." "Why would I risk getting shot to come out to Park Slope?" I welcome any and all visitors.