Haunted House Hunting, Part Five
Jan. 24th, 2022 08:33 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
To give a point of comparison, $1300 is the rent I paid on a shitty awful garbage slumlord apartment in West Philadelphia during my first year of grad school, and that apartment was a disaster zone.
During my last year in Atlanta, I was paying $760 a month for a beautiful new industrial-chic apartment in a renovated cotton mill next to a gorgeous old historic cemetery (it's actually the building that housed the team headquarters in the reboot of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy). That apartment was posh as fuck, so I thought a $1300 apartment in Philadelphia was going to be fancy. Like the Jeffersons, I was moving on up. I couldn't really afford the rent on my graduate student stipend, but I figured a nice apartment was worth cutting corners elsewhere.
Damn was I surprised when I moved in and saw the apartment in person for the first time. I still have nightmares about that place.
And don't ask me about my rent in DC. I lived in a subsidized, rent-controlled building, and you still don't want to know how much it was. Every day I took a long walk around my neighborhood and cried because it was so beautiful, and every night I checked my bank account and cried some more. There was a lot of crying. I couldn't afford living there, but there was literally nowhere else to live. I considered moving to Baltimore, but the commute would have killed me.
Part of me feels guilty about having nice things, especially since the only reason I can have nice things is because a global pandemic depressed the urban housing market, but fuck it. Bitches gotta live somewhere.
During my last year in Atlanta, I was paying $760 a month for a beautiful new industrial-chic apartment in a renovated cotton mill next to a gorgeous old historic cemetery (it's actually the building that housed the team headquarters in the reboot of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy). That apartment was posh as fuck, so I thought a $1300 apartment in Philadelphia was going to be fancy. Like the Jeffersons, I was moving on up. I couldn't really afford the rent on my graduate student stipend, but I figured a nice apartment was worth cutting corners elsewhere.
Damn was I surprised when I moved in and saw the apartment in person for the first time. I still have nightmares about that place.
And don't ask me about my rent in DC. I lived in a subsidized, rent-controlled building, and you still don't want to know how much it was. Every day I took a long walk around my neighborhood and cried because it was so beautiful, and every night I checked my bank account and cried some more. There was a lot of crying. I couldn't afford living there, but there was literally nowhere else to live. I considered moving to Baltimore, but the commute would have killed me.
Part of me feels guilty about having nice things, especially since the only reason I can have nice things is because a global pandemic depressed the urban housing market, but fuck it. Bitches gotta live somewhere.
no subject
Date: 2022-02-01 04:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-02-02 02:24 pm (UTC)My hope is that, as more housing is built to accommodate the gradual reurbanization of America, renting (or perhaps even buying) apartments will have more legal protections and will be managed more by tenant co-ops than corporate property holdings groups.
Based on what happened in London and Tokyo and what's currently happening in Tel Aviv, I have a feeling that the situation is going to get much worse before it gets better, but I can still dream.
no subject
Date: 2022-02-03 03:09 am (UTC)I despair, a little bit. More than a little.