eau de Kat Georgé

I moved back to my old neighbourhood yesterday. To give you an idea of what it’s like, the guy in the bodega downstairs calls me “snowflake.” Here are some things about living around here that are better than Williamsburg:

• daily verbal affirmation from strangers that my booty is indeed as juicy as I hope it is
• my morning coffee and sausage / egg / cheese roll now only costs $3.75 as compared to $6 on Bedford
• the apartment below me is full of male models
• the apartment below me is full of male models
• the apartment below me if full of male models
• the few hipsters that do live around here are ‘authentic’ and therefore ‘less annoying’ and ‘more interesting’ or ‘better at life’ i.e. ‘don’t have a trust fund and a family plan’
• I can still get to the Lucky Dog in under 15 minutes
• the family that owns the diner under my house are Greek so I can close my eyes and pretend I’m in Santorini when they’re talking and making my Souvlaki (this could also be further evidence that Jay-Z is Greek, as he grew up here. I am currently concocting a plan to subtly ask them if their last name is ‘Carteropolous’)
• my rent halved and my room doubled in size
• you can buy cigarettes for $6 a packet at the bodega across the street (not that I do that anymore, just sayin’)
• I can walk to Anna’s house