Great, Oprah! Now that we’ve cleared that up, are there closets in the bedroom?

It’s another day on the internet, retrieving e-mails, responding to various posts, and it’s not getting better – it’s getting worse. I’m searching for new roommates.

Don’t much care for my current living situation any longer, but the more I pursue alternatives, the more I want to bite the bullet and stay in boring old Queens in a bedroom with no privacy and too high rent for what I’m getting. It’s posts like these – "I’m friendly and outgoing, but also a bit of a loner."

…we sometimes hang in the buff, watch porno. I'm' proud of my body and want to be around another guy who feels the same….

Of course, self-help sounds better when faced with a box full of this nonsense, as this hapless strangling veers dangerously close to too-much-info…

….I prefer a discrete home life where I can unwind and be more uninhibited, after coming home from work or coming from a hard workout at the gym - enjoy feeling healthy and horny like you feel in the gym…

Thanks for scaring me away from the gym I nearly joined! Of course, he needs to mention porno more than once (twice as nice)..

…..Other interests include watching porno, discrete social life with friends, nude workouts at home….

Again with the nude workouts! This is too weird.

So, this is boring stuff to you, but to my mind, to refrain from discussion regarding our living arrangements (and how much we hate them – wrong roommates – no light – wrong borough – right borough, wrong neighborhood) is to deny an enormous part of just who we are.

In this city, where the sanctuary means everything, and small things like closets and a tree in front of a window can mean everything (we’re not asking for much, dammit – how about a little bit of counter space in the kitchen – please?) the apartment as centerpiece is just a part of city life, and it can make or break your New York experience.

Baby did a bad, bad thing – I decided to move. Casually. Just announced it one day, said I’d probably be out in a month. My savings promptly dried up in response, I’ve no idea how –, and suddenly I was feeling fairly impotent – you can’t go searching without checkbook in hand, and things were at their worst in late August, with thousands of college students with Daddy Dearest in tow, who wanted the best for little Joe/Julie College, and spared no expense in finding him the best Manhattan apartment their hard-earned money could pay for.

Hmmph. I know things are bad, when I’m shut out of East Harlem, for God’s sake. I mean – you go over there, you’re all of a sudden surrounded by bleached hair types beginning at Columbia, who somehow discovered cheap rents and a nice little crosstown bus on 116^th Street. No fair! I was here first! But I didn’t jump on it when I knew about it, and now rents are high enough in a neighborhood lousy enough that I’m not so sure I want to make the plunge. Plus, 15% brokers fees in Harlem? What’s up with that?

Then there was the innocent little posting on one of those extremely questionable roommate service sites that netted me something like 30 desperate responses within 24 hours. The posting said that "I was about to close a deal on a great apartment…your share $500…..wasn’t sure if it was going to go through or not (it didn’t)…2BR on Broome St…." It was a sweet scenario, if it had worked.

Of course not! But that didn’t stop those dear folks from hoping –

….Hi! Let’s meet! You sound like a great match! I look forward to meeting you. I’ll be in the city this weekend – can we talk?…

Dear dear – is that a note of desperation I sense?

….Hello! Sounds great! When can we meet! Don’t worry about furniture…I have a phat stereo….

Eeek. Put that one in the recycle bin – can’t have a roommate that casually tosses the word "phat" around. No Sir.

And what’s with all these chicks? Didn’t they read correctly – hey – it’s my revenge on all those folks who just want females – what’s with that, anyway? Especially the men who say "F only." Wimp. Scared I’ll kick your ass?

….I know you said you weren’t going to contact anyone until the end of the week, but thought I’d check in and see if anything had developed…

Hey! I meant what I said!

…Not to be a pain in the ass, but…

You are! Enough!

My head is spinning…compounded by the fact that the latest updates came from that scam of a referral service that I foolishly paid $270 for (they’re called TRANSWORLD -- they’re evil, and must be destroyed.), completely mismatched, as always. I don’t even bother to call any of them.

I sit there, staring at the computer, completely flummoxed.