So I spent a portion of this past weekend apartment hunting.  Not for me (at least not yet), but for my friend Jimmy.  He has found two apartments and is facing the classic New York dilemma:  a gorgeous apartment in a neighborhood he is unsure about, and a small apartment that needs some work in an amazing neighborhood.  Having been a renter for my entire life in New York (and even before that), it’s so hard for me to walk into an apartment and imagine what it could be with an architect and a construction loan rather than look at what it is.  So, as much as I love my neighborhood (where the smaller apartment is), the other apartment was much more appealing to me, even though I was unfamiliar with the neighborhood.  It didn’t help that one apartment was a two bedroom with a private roofdeck and the other was a one bedroom, five-story walk-up.  But I understand his agonizing.  I love living in the Village, and the neighborhood is important, especially when you live by yourself.  I do love the nights when I hang out by myself at home, but I like to have the option of going down the street for a meal or a drink by myself, or meeting up with friends in the neighborhood without much planning.

Next summer I will begin the apartment hunting process for myself, and I have to admit that I’m excited but scared.  I really didn’t think I’d be going through this process by myself — I imagined buying a home with someone.  I’m slowly getting over that part, but I’m still a bit overwhelmed by the notion that if I don’t like a kitchen, or a particular wall, that I can actually change it.  Lord knows if I bought the apartment I’m currently in, the first thing I’d do is knock a big hole in the wall between the kitchen and the living room so I don’t feel isolated when I’m entertaining.  And don’t even get me started about leaving the neighborhood I’ve lived in for the past twelve years.  I know it’ll happen (and I’ve certainly considered it for a while) but that doesn’t mean I’m not sad about it in many ways.

Any tips from first-time apartment buyers out there?

And, on an unrelated note, welcome back, Arielle — I missed the hell out of you!

I will at some point, I swear, but right now I’m so very tired and have to write a Gothamist post about the Chocolate Show before heading to sleep.  Will you ever forgive me?

You want him to gasp because you look so fabulous.  You want to tell him all about your new boyfriend, your promotion at work, and the incredible vacation you just took.  You want to have a perfect hair day, gleaming white teeth, and be dressed in your most comfortable yet naturally sexy outfit that highlights your assets (a.k.a. cleavage).

You don’t want to be dressed in your somewhat frumpy work clothes, which don’t do much more than hang there and make you look sort of professional, yet boring.  You don’t want to have a nose that’s still slightly red and chapped from blowing it all weekend.  You don’t want to be fighting with the new bangs you got last week that still don’t want to sit properly on your forehead.  And you certainly don’t want to feel more bloated than you’ve felt in months from PMS and a four-day lapse at the gym due to aforementioned plague.  Sigh.

A special shout-out to all the marathoners, particularly to Teddi, who completed her first marathon after months of hard work and dedication.  Way to go, Teddi!  Also congrats to Rob (marathon #5) and Derek (marathon #7). 

Plague is subsiding, but I still sound pretty cold-y.  Can’t wait to shake this one — I’ve got a busy few weeks coming up.

It is amazing that earlier this week I was walking around without a coat and right now it’s about 40 degrees out.  No wonder I’ve come down with the plague.  I tried to hold out as long as I could, but had to leave work at about 3pm yesterday and crawl home and into my pajamas.  I ordered some spicy shrimp soup from Saigon Grill and settled in on the couch, dozing on and off.  I’m home again today, but have to get some work done — I am so grateful for remote access to my work network on days like this!  I’m also thrilled to be able to participate in a conference call in my pajamas, which I’ll be doing shortly.

I was talking to a friend tonight about a book he heard about of that basically teaches women how to "win" a "quality" guy.  And by "quality," the author means "rich."  He went on to describe some of the author’s key tips like not ordering apple martinis, but ordering scotch instead, or learning about wine not for the sake of gaining a new area of expertise, but more for the purpose of impressing his friends at a dinner party or the prep school reunion. 

This whole idea is puzzling to me.  Yes, it’s true that I’ve heard guys complain that so many women in the city only care about how much money a guy makes, but I really don’t think any of my female friends (or, to be fair, most of my female friends) are that type of woman.  And I think the "quality" guys described in the book are really high-paid guys who find their confidence solely in the fact that they are high-paid.  Who the hell wants to date that guy?  Ick!  May all the gold-digging women snatch them up and leave the rest of us with the good ones.