Sesame Street has been brought to you today by the letters O, D, L and R and the Number 2

The Brooklyn Bridge on my way to my first apartment

Before I start off on another jovial update on my life as an illegal alien I would first like to share with you some snapshops taken from my trip so far (taken on my blackberry so apologies for the crap quality)

Yes this honestly is part of the form for my customs entry into the US...
I bloody well forgot the bloody soil!

Following our night of $5 martinis I stopped off at the Carnegie deli on 7th avenue for a bagel
On returning to my hotel room I opened my paper bag to discover this BEAST.
And NO... I didnt eat it like that... I obviously scraped pretty much all of that cream cheese out.

Possibly the greatest cupcakes I have ever seen... yes thats right kids... Big Bird and Oscar the Grouch cupcakes
Saw these in Ruthy's Bakery in the Chelsea Market in the West Village

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6th floor walk-ups are my worst nightmare. Following an unproductive few days of apartment hunting (I keep saying flat and apparently according to a girl I spoke to today 'nah that just means flat - like, you know, flat' and gestured her hands in a manner with which to suggest horizontal - she was precious.) Lauren and I yesterday ended up going to see a place which had 6 full flights of stairs you had to scale in order to reach this godforsaken place... and then when we got there we were greeted by a menopausal cat lady with the tiniest hobbit hole of a flat who, now a retired hair and makeup artist from the 90s, is a tourguide of New York. We were shown our room which we would be sharing... and it turns out - it was a cabin bed with a chest of drawers underneath - literally not even enough room to swing her god awful mangey cat.

At this point I was ready to break down, to do a George Michael - sadly there's no sign of a snappy snaps in manhattan... nor do I own a car nor do I 'Smoke da Ganga' but the intention was there.

Instead I hugged a tree... literally... As Lauren and I downtrodden and disheartened sat outside our final flat to see of the day I hugged a tree and prayed. 

We actually got the wrong place at first, turns out the lady we were looking for lived in the building right next door, so having stalked the woman with her groceries (yes folks, im an american now dont you know) for 10 minutes, and casually waited for her thinking we should give her a few mins to put away her fruit loops and her skippy (smooth... yum) - we looked rather idiotic when we knocked on her door to find she was infact not Buket the lovely Turkish lady who extracted us from her neighbours doorway a few seconds later.

So we walked into this apartment - Between Stanton and Clinton in the East Village - And a tear came to my eye. It was perfect - it is perfect! I will post some photos up here as soon as I can. It was as if all my tree hugging had paid off and finally, finally things were looking up!

And as of tomorrow, I am never putting tomato in my sandwiches again - I cannot stand how soggy they are by lunchtime.