The light at the end of the tunnel!

Between the death of my grandfather, flathunting, and drama on the homefront, fleeing back to the comfort of Philly seemed like the most desirable option but my finances don't allow for running (a fact I should be grateful for) It feels like my journey to make a life in London, has become harder with each passing month...but I guess that's what happens when you try to create a fairytale: reality always catches up. September has brought with her, a new feeling...one I am not familiar with...the feeling of being 'trapped'. FYI: there is something very depressing about:


Being financially unstable aka too broke to fly home when something happens
Being unable to find sanctuary or space from a rocky relationship
Having to rely on others for money for food and transportation
Being overlooked by flat after flat after flat....

But I wouldn't be writing this if I still felt trapped....because emailing about being trapped worries family and friends.....and worst of all, causes me to have a breakdown...if I write that I'm trapped, I can no longer lie to myself...my mind would have written proof of the circumstances.

And just when I am ready to get back on the plane, the British gods cut me some slack. As of today, I have a home and money to afford myself, which is amazing considering I am not exactly a cheap date! My humble abode, flat #1,245 of the hunt, isn't what I envisioned but it will work. A double room on the 17th floor, with views of the city skyline and enough space to store all the crap I have accumulated in the last 9months. The bathrooms are not exactly what you would call welcoming...the tub doesn't set the stage for a relaxing, candle lit, bubble bath....it screams shower quick and hope you don't get Hep C(just kidding, its not that terrible and Hep C is curable anyway!) The tiolet is seperate from the shower and I can't help but wonder if it sits in a former hall closet. There is no common room, which is pretty typical for London flatsharing. The kitchen is nothing worth mentioning, although the windows look out to the London Eye which makes my tourist heart skip a beat. And then there is the door to a flatsharer's dream...no not a washer/dryer although it has that too...a roof terrace! Perfect for those 2 days a year when the sun is out.

Salim, my new flatmate seems nice enough, he's a 27 year old lawyer from Liverpool. Having a lawyer on your side, never can hurt... There's also a girl named Jenn, mid 30s (I'm guessing) who I met for two seconds when I picked up my keys. I'm pretty sure she's Brazilian but I was only half listening when Salim threw it in to conversation.

I did have some doubts, especially when I entered floor 17 (I'm technically 17 1/2) and saw stroller after stroller in front of every flat. It's half council housing, London's version of HUD housing. But in a city where everything is out of my price range, you have to give some things up... like standards. I was assured it was safe, I have to swipe a key pass 3 times before I enter my Fort Knox flat and 12 hour attendents are thrown in for good measure. All that said, I am excited. I have been dubbed not cool enough (well thats what I consider it when I want a flat chooses someone else) twice, been interrogated by potential flatmates, and raised my 'budget' 3 times!

So for a mere £660 I have a home but I am still struggling with the idea that my rent is $1,028 a month after conversion. Who pays that much for a room, not a house or even a 1 bedroom...just a room? Well as of Oct 1st, I will. At some point you have to give in, you can only stick to your price range for so long and if I stayed in that budget for any longer, I would end up in shady East London or even shadier South London.

Despite the strollers and questionable loo, I could not be more excited to move in. It is considerably cheap to live in Zone 1 (central London). I will be in Moorgate, which is great especially since my office will be moving 5 blocks from my flat in January, 30 minutes from school, and a quick walk or bus ride to my favorite drinking/dancing haunts!

My suitcases are dusted off, the Albanians have been given the good news, and I am already looking for decorative crap to hang on the walls. It couldnt come at a better time, the Albanians and I are experiencing an all time high on the tension scale....made worse by another girlfriends move. I can't say much because I am a transplanted girlfriend but I can say she makes me want to punch her in the face!