CHAPTER 50
Julia said from the kitchen zone as I started calling it, "You're wearing the silver dress or I'm stabbing you." It was undoubtedly too little to qualify as a full-fledged kitchen.
I had moved from an echoing, rambling Victorian in the suburbs of Chicago to a sweet East Village apartment that was about the same size as my previous living room. Once I had unpacked, organized everything, and invited my two best friends over, it seemed even smaller. Giant bay windows surrounded the living room, dining room, and kitchen area, but the result was more fishbowl-like than palatial. Julia was just in town for the weekend and this celebratory evening, but she'd already questioned my decision to stay in such a little area at least 10 times.
In actuality, I picked it because it was unique compared to what I had previously encountered. And so if you went to New York without first finding a place to live, you were almost certainly going to discover small flats there.