Here's blogger Juli Weiner's take on Mayor Bloomberg's proposed teeny-tiny Kips Bay apartment living. And the rent? Around $2,000 a month! Pretty funny.

Microhome, Sweet Home
By Juli Weiner

HELLO! I’m so glad you could make it to my microhousewarming. Ha-ha, no, there’s still going to be a lot of fun, I’m just calling it that because of how much I’m loving my new Kips Bay-area, Bloomberg-administration-ordered, 275-square-foot microapartment. You can put your coat right ... there on your shoulders! Please keep your coat on. One of Gerald’s friends brought a hat, so unfortunately space is a bit tight in the closet.

Come in, please, come in! Let me give you the grand tour. If you’ll follow me into the kitchen ... one step farther, just a bit to the left, two inches forward, yes. This is it! My culinary sanctuary! Over there is the same hot plate that — true story — I was told to remove from my college dorm. Exposed coils, you know? I guess adulthood can be pretty great, ha-ha!

Right next to the hot plate is our mini-refrigerator, and on the shelf there is a travel-size hair-straightener we use to toast bread. Can I offer you some toast? You sure? You want sweet, not savory — I get it. There’s a D.I.Y. s’mores station in the DVD player’s open-disc drive. Isn’t that clever? Out pops the little tray, and on top of it goes little graham crackers and marshmallows. During our bitterest arguments, Gerald and I call it the “dining room terrace.”

Would you believe it that the DVD player broke because of all the snacks we were serving on its disc drive? If we had any room for DVDs, I imagine I’d be more upset.

Are you at all thirsty? Our water filter wasn’t able to fit in our mini-refrigerator, but a few hours ago Gerald placed a large bowl on the sidewalk to collect rainwater. There’s no window access here, but it must have started raining recently because why else would someone have brought a hat? Completely crazy — to bring that hat without giving your hosts advance notice! Because, you know, Gerald and I would have worn our bulkiest clothing and shoes if we had known about the hat. That way there would have been some room in the closet, but of course we had no idea.

No idea about any of ... this. I had a dream I was in my own coffin last night, but it wasn’t a nightmare so much as a fantasy about the legroom.

What? Oh, you’re thirsty. Still? No, right, of course.

Gerald? Hi. Oh, you’re right there, aren’t you. Always. Right. There. What can we do about water? Well, I don’t know if it rained. Do you see a window anywhere here? Put your arm down, Gerald. You’re perfectly aware we can’t use that window because it’s blocked by the sleeping loft/cutlery drawer/painting I inherited from my grandmother/shower.

Why don’t you tell your big-shot friend with the hat to take it from the closet, put it on his head, and go outside to check if it’s raining? Fine. Fine. Fine!

I’m so sorry about Gerald. Anyway, I think some space cleared up in the closet if you’d like me to take your coat?


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


Here's a link to The Times' article:

[www.nytimes.com]

ha! that's great.