I somehow got through moving day. Moving in July in Manhattan is nothing less than a circus: movers, parking (or lack there of), slow elevators, angry neighbors, and tons of bags and shoes that need to be delicately handled.
So we found these movers in the east village... and by movers I mean two men with a large enough vehicle to fit my things. After a few hours of awkward chit chat I found myself oddly attracted to the fully tattooed east village hipster who was throwing my nice things around. Long story short, we made out and I dry-humped him. It was strange, but it was fun. I feel like a badass.
Now its time to sit on my overstuffed boxes with a glass of wine and my crazy roommate. This here begins a new chapter in my life, and many new tales for my faithful ducklings.
-Bella
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