Move It or Lose It

Moving Day is tomorrow, and most of our stuff is packed away in boxes lining the living room walls. I look at this mighty fortress of cardboard with pride, because it took us 3 full weeks of blood, sweat and tears to get to this point.

I learned some new things about Este during this time, which I will list below in order of importance.

1. Este Does Not Like to Procrastinate
He thrives on errands. If there is a bill to pay or if we're running low on toilet paper, he makes it his immediate priority. I, on the other hand, like to take a few days to really get to know the task and like to do things only when it becomes urgent (i.e. resorting to Kleenex when out of toilet paper, then resorting to napkins when out of Kleenex). I like deadlines and do well at the last minute, so if this move were up to me, we'd still have cups and plates to drink and eat from.

2. He is a Moving Nazi
Because of Trait #1, not a second was wasted. We packed all weekends and every night. If I took a break to sit down, Este would drag me back up again and put me to work. Apparently, he would say he's not hungry to delay our dinner time because, and I quote, "You work better when you have food as an incentive."

Este learned a new thing about me too. While I was taking a few moments to catch my breath on the couch and relax after a grueling 20 minutes of hard-core packing, he looked at me all forlorn and disappointed and said, "So you're never going to be the kind of girl to run a marathon, huh?"

3. Este is a Pack Rat
He literally has hundreds of t-shirts, the kind that you buy at souvenir shops. He never wears these but refuses to donate or throw them away. I tried to get him to divide the clothes into a keep pile and a trash pile, but he ended up with three separate piles: those that are meaningful, those that are too nice to get dirty, and those that are good for painting/yard work. Despite the fact that we don't have a yard and don't plan to paint, we kept all the shirts.

One day, I come across a tin box in one of his drawers. Este immediately snatches it from me and packs it away.
"What was that?"
"Nothing."
I grab the box. He grabs it from me. We have a tug of war.
"Este, what is in here?"
"NOTHING!" He has a look of sheer terror in his eyes, and I start to get scared too. With deep breaths, I say, "I'm not going to be mad. Whatever is in here-- we can get through it. Just let me see what's in the box."
I slowly open the box, expecting oh I don't know...love letters to another girl...dirty magazines...drugs... anything but what was actually in the box:
Hundreds of ball point pens.

Mosquitoes, Roaches and Flies, Oh My!

We are not allowed to put an AC unit in one of the bedroom windows, because we can't block the fire escape, so we keep the window open a crack to create a cool cross breeze in hopes that some air from the AC in the living room will also make it through. This has been the set up for a couple years now, and it has worked out well. Lately, however, I wake up in the middle of the night with an intense itch up and down my legs. Half awake and half asleep, I scratch and scratch until I no longer care and pass out with exhaustion. In the morning, I ask Este if he got any bug bites during the night and am amazed to find out that he is unscathed and that mine have disappeared completely. Not even a red spot to indicate that the itchy hell was real. I resolved myself to the fact that I was probably going insane.

The other night, I hear Este call from the kitchen: "Babe? Keesh is acting really weird. Hey, Keesh. What are you looking at? What is it?" This- followed by a high-pitched wheezing sound coming from the future man of the house. I run to the kitchen and find the cat frozen in place and staring at a spot on the wall. Este, a few feet back, with his face scrunched up in a painful expression and still wheezing with fright. On the wall in front of them was the biggest cockroach I have ever seen, rubbing its antennas together. I scream, the cat jumps up and bolts for the bedroom, and we take refuge on top of the couch.
"Este, you can't let this thing get away. You have to kill it, tonight," I tell him.
"But it's got wings!"
I'm very proud that Este did muster enough courage to squash the 2-pound cockroach, a.k.a. the creature from the Black Lagoon, a.k.a. Lucifer's offspring. But little did we know, our night was just beginning.

2:30AM: Este jumps out of bed. "Ahhhh! Mosquitoes are eating me alive!" It was like music to my ears. I was not the only one on the menu! We turn on the lights and take stock of the place. Sure enough, there are two mosquitoes flitting about. But we are groggy and the little black bodies are hard to follow. Este takes a few swats with a rolled up newspaper and declares the mission accomplished.

3:00AM: "#*$%@!!!!!!"
It was a full on war. Us against the bugs of Astoria. I try to think of a combat strategy. "Este, we need a 360 degree formation."
"Roger that."
Armed with a newspaper and a pillow, we stand back-to-back and start turning around in a circle, so we can both fight and keep look out at the same time. It was awesome. But unfortunately, no dead mosquitoes.

Now we have abandoned the offensive strategy and focus on defensive measures: long johns and mosquito repellent. Este's reasoning being that the mosquitoes will die if we can starve them to death, but it seems that the two-week human feast has left the bugs with enough nutrition to last them a long time. And the window that we use for fresh air and cool breezes? It is closed.
God, I can't wait to move!

Goldilocks and the 3 Apartments

This is my fourth apartment hunt in New York, and with the economy and housing market the way that it is, I have been looking forward to reaping the benefits for some time now. Housing prices are falling and previously unaffordable neighborhoods are now instantly within our budget. Este and I found ourselves dreaming of a 3 bedroom apartment on the Upper West Side with stainless steel kitchen appliances, a washer/dryer, with large closet space and a balcony all for under $2000 a month. I know, I know, a little ridiculous but we wanted to see how much we could get for the cheapest possible rent.

These are desparate times for brokers. Every single one I met with had at least 4 apartments to show. In the past, the broker would be half an hour late to show a single apartment. There'd be at least 3 other groups interested in the place. After we were given a brief tour, the broker would turn around and ask who wanted to fill out an application, the first person to raise his/her hand would get the apartment and the rest would go home feeling used and dejected. Now, they start drooling as soon as they find out you have a job.

So--with the ball in the renter's court, we set out to find the perfect apartment, the apartment where I will be a wife and Este will be a husband and we will be married (hopefully to each other). Maybe it's because we had so many choices or because our expectations were too high, but whatever it was, we could not make a decision on anything. One apartment was too big (not kidding), one was way too small (not surprising), one had the stainless steel appliances but was missing windows, and one had an elevator but no living room. As we realized that space was more important than anything else, the trendy neighborhoods turned into the don't-make-eye-contact neighborhoods. We even considered a luxury hi-rise apartment in Harlem because there was a hospital nearby. (So what if the neighborhood is bad, if one of us gets shot, at least we know where to go!)

It felt like serial dating. We'd meet with different brokers every night, lead them on into thinking we really liked the apartment, then not return any of their phone calls after changing our minds. We'd meet with brokers at the same time or back-to-back until one of them would suspect there's another person in the picture. Then we'd have The Talk. "It's not you, you were great. We're just really indecisive. Can we still be friends?"

We finally found a place that meets most of our requirements and is within our budget and (don't worry, Mom) the neighborhood is safe. The new landlord has already taken our application fee and security deposit, so there's no way we can change our minds now without it getting ugly. And it's a good thing too, because brokers all across Manhattan have blacklisted this Couple from Hell.

The White Party

On the Fourth of July, my parents threw an out-of-this-world engagement party at our lake house in Deep Creek Lake, MD. You know a party is amazing when a week goes by and you are still smiling with the good memories. I still can't believe how ridiculously fun it was and how much work went into making it happen. A special shout out to my dad and mom who worked their party-throwing magic; DJ Aria for spinning the beats while hopelessly wasted; Javad for sharing his Noon o Kabab restaurant secrets and providing the food; to Mojgan for the 100 delicious cupcakes; to Siamak and Anna for the signage; Christiane and Fred for letting us use your industrial-sized kitchen to seeq the kebab and chop the vegetables; to Mehran and Kamiar for dealing with the whole grilling the goat thing; to Javad and Sharzad for letting random people sleep in your house; to Goli for being the on site photographer, to Kelly for doing my make up and Kat for straightening my hair and the list goes on....By the night of the party, the house was set up like a wedding and I felt like a bride. So now, without further ado for those of you who missed this, I present Ava and Este's Engagement Party 2009 in pictures:

Setting Up:
Este was recruited to help chop about 100 very large onions. No cry babies here!


While I was sent to the butcher shop to ground 40 pounds of meat...






Why didn't we just have the wedding? My parents even bought a canoe just so they could fill it with ice and make it a salad bar. Sigh...






Couldn't wait to eat this goat! His name was Sam.


Bride-to-Be and Groom-to-Be are looking good in red! All others blended in the background with white. haha!







Is this Lili's husband?


NO. Is this Lili's husband?
No, again.


THERE he is!!!


More good times...