This blog is about dreaming. Dreaming of what?
Dreaming of buying a crib (home) in Brooklyn, the city in which my husband, our two wild little boys and I were born and raised—the city I love and despise at the moment; the city where we dreamily lounge in our dream crib with our dream yard and our dream driveway.
Why is this just a dream? Because in a city where one out of every five people is millionaire, we’re basically broke, which makes owning a crib in this city something we may only be able to dream about. Okay, we’re not exactly broke-- we have a change jar by the bed. It helps when I need quarters for the muni meters or when I have to get some Cheetos for dinner.
So, meanwhile, back at the ranch... while my husband (a high school English teacher for the past 27 years) and I (part time RN/social worker) were living hand to mouth, working as humble civil servants and eking out a “living" in this god-forsaken city, Brooklyn suddenly exploded into the nation’s second most expensive city in which to live.
Who knew that all it takes is an adjusted gross income of $343,927 to be included in the top 1%? Who knew that on average the top 1% makes $960,000? Who knew that the collective adjusted gross income of the top 1% is $1.3 trillion? Who knew a 26 year old, single, white securities/hedge fund manager schmuck could buy a 4 story brownstone down the street I grew up on, gut it all, and transform it into an enormous 2 bedroom crib with a pool and movie theatre for his hedge fund bitch homeys to chill in?
What about the rest of us? Well, the rest of us, like me, get to dream. So, while we’re stuck in dream-land, dreaming about the far off dream crib, I get to rant and rave about this city I love and hate so much with its god awfully expensive housing market and its cute 20 and 30 something transplant trust-a-farites; this god damned city, this golden ass, this “shiny toy, I've been hoping for/ the one I never can afford” (thanks Indigo Girls).
Are you with me? Dream and rant on!
Dreaming of buying a crib (home) in Brooklyn, the city in which my husband, our two wild little boys and I were born and raised—the city I love and despise at the moment; the city where we dreamily lounge in our dream crib with our dream yard and our dream driveway.
Why is this just a dream? Because in a city where one out of every five people is millionaire, we’re basically broke, which makes owning a crib in this city something we may only be able to dream about. Okay, we’re not exactly broke-- we have a change jar by the bed. It helps when I need quarters for the muni meters or when I have to get some Cheetos for dinner.
So, meanwhile, back at the ranch... while my husband (a high school English teacher for the past 27 years) and I (part time RN/social worker) were living hand to mouth, working as humble civil servants and eking out a “living" in this god-forsaken city, Brooklyn suddenly exploded into the nation’s second most expensive city in which to live.
Who knew that all it takes is an adjusted gross income of $343,927 to be included in the top 1%? Who knew that on average the top 1% makes $960,000? Who knew that the collective adjusted gross income of the top 1% is $1.3 trillion? Who knew a 26 year old, single, white securities/hedge fund manager schmuck could buy a 4 story brownstone down the street I grew up on, gut it all, and transform it into an enormous 2 bedroom crib with a pool and movie theatre for his hedge fund bitch homeys to chill in?
What about the rest of us? Well, the rest of us, like me, get to dream. So, while we’re stuck in dream-land, dreaming about the far off dream crib, I get to rant and rave about this city I love and hate so much with its god awfully expensive housing market and its cute 20 and 30 something transplant trust-a-farites; this god damned city, this golden ass, this “shiny toy, I've been hoping for/ the one I never can afford” (thanks Indigo Girls).
Are you with me? Dream and rant on!