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no room for hipsters

the occupation of Ashley and Levon

(from both of us, Tues PM)

We were awakened this morning at 5AM as one of our ten roommates had foghorns in his nostrils.  We lay listening to his fits until the free breakfast was served at 6.  Breakfast was an international sharing of cereal and milk.  Twenty sleepy travelers around the kitchen counter speaking seven languages is a bizarre way for all of us to have our Cheerios.  

By 8 we were on the streets.  For the last few weeks we’ve built a list of areas to explore.  Bushwick is our base, and although we jotted down some art studio spaces to investigate, living here would be dreary.  

On to Williamsburg by foot.  This is the place we expected to find home.  We pictured Chicago’s Wicker Park, but with Manhattan across the bridge.  Naturally, after months of eager expectancy we were deflated to feel like it was not a fit.  Gritty is not the word, neither is up and coming.  Knoxville is that.  We can see why people love Williamsburg, but we just don’t feel the draw.  

We thought Park Slope or Red Hook would be another good try.  This time we drove, and in the process managed to squirrel around downtown Brooklyn, Park Slope, Bedford Stuy, and Brooklyn Heights.  After two days of seeing the landscape of Brooklyn, we’re admitting that its not the place we want to be.

Tomorrow we go to Manhattan.  Manhattan is New York to most people, and where we originally wanted to go.  Hopefully we will find where we want to be.

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