The Quest to Fiscal Responsibility

Despite having a Master's degree in Accounting, as a broke 20-something with piles of soul crushing debt, I tend to take a Liz Lemon-esque approach to personal finances. It's sufficient to say, the closest I've come to investing, thus far, is that time in Finance class where they gave us a fake $1,000,000. Recently, though, I went to see a friend of mine in Brooklyn and was very impressed by her new place. Turns out she BOUGHT it!! Someone MY AGE BOUGHT a condo with a balcony overlooking the Manhattan skyline. What does everyone know that I dont!? Turns out, a lot.

Apparently, certain buildings are approved to allow buyers to pay as low as a 3.5% down payment. Granted, in NYC, 3.5% of insanely expensive still adds up to pretty darn expensive, but the idea became firmly lodged in my mind. This created a perfect storm of A. Boredom at Work, B. Lust for Money, C. Unrealistic Expectations, and D. Streeteasy.com. I started dreaming of finding a hidden gem of an apartment on the north side of Central Park, paying way below market value for it (because the dream owner is apparently a moron), and then watching it appreciate to be worth millions. Nonetheless, when I mentioned the whole idea to my mom, she actually thought it was a fantastic plan.

Anyway, I'm really not sure what miracles I was expecting here. Having spent months looking for an apartment with Robert, I really should have known what was out there. But I guess Manhattan real estate hunting is like giving birth. Your body is programmed to forget the pain, so that you can later convince yourself to go through it again. The places I saw last weekend really had some fantastic ameneties. Here are just a few of the hilights:

 Airy outdoor space!

 Spacious study!

 Artfully decorated space! Gourmet kitchen!

Kicking myself right now for not putting down an offer right then and there!

A Dental Dilemma

I am not one of those people who refuses to go see a doctor until they are at death's door (ahem, Robert), so when I pay for health insurance I intend to use it. So I begged and pleaded at work and was finally able to take a few hours to go see a dentist. Hooray! (Anyone working in public accounting can definitely understand the magnitude of this achievement.)

Time to find a dentist! Good news! My insurance covers approximately 30820394820394 doctors located within a 5 block radius of my apartment. Winning! 20 phone calls later, still no appointment. I wasn't surprised. In the spring, I had strep throat TWICE consecutively, and still no doctor found this medical anomaly interesting enough to give me an appointment less than a month in advance. Finally, I manage to get an appointment. Success!

I waited in anticipation for weeks and the day finally came! I practically skipped to the swanky Madison Ave. office impatient to remove the coffee and tea stains left on my teeth by over a year of office captivity. The white gloved doorman directed me to the office, and along i went. When I opened the door, I almost left thinking I walked into the wrong place by mistake. It was as if I had walked into an antique store or a country bed and breakfast. Or the Little Mermaid's underwater cave of random crap.

I proceeded to sit in the dentist's chair in utter bewilderment, gazing up at about 10 Eiffel Towers dangling from the ceiling, some kind of Africa tribal mask, and other floor-to-ceiling...paraphanelia. Meanwhile, he spent a good 15 minutes adamantly lecturing me on why I should be a vegan. But really, telling a Texan to be vegan is like...telling a bear to be vegan.

The conversation then shifted to cats. Of which this gentleman had at least 8, to my understanding. Each cat was cleverly named after a different vegetable. Broccoli, onion, cauliflower, zuchinni...I almost wanted to ask if the cats were vegan also, but you don't antagonize a person when they have sharp instruments near your face. Then, when I mentioned that, I, too, have cats and like art/travel/knick knacks, Dr. McDreamy got super excited and informed me that he is indeed single! So, just a heads up, if you're into weirdos who have massive rent-controlled apartments on the Upper East Side, I can definitely give you a referral. He also enjoys painting and long walks on the beach.

Anyway. Long story short, whatever he did appears to have worked and my teeth are as shiny as ever. Do I go back and just assume this "eclectic" style of medical care a New York thing? Or... maybe next year I'll splurge on a "Dental Spa" where you get a foot rub while listening to soothing music and looking over Central Park. Living the dream!