About 4.4 billion planets are similar to Earth in size and temperature, suggesting they may be able to host life, according to a survey of the galaxy using telescopes operating in space and on the ground. —Bloomberg.com
As you know, Richard and I had been apartment hunting in and around Manhattan for over five years. And nothing—nothing!—was to our liking. I mean, these were some great locations, but let’s face it: views of airshafts, lightless rooms, thin walls… Was that the best New York had to offer?
Which is why Richard and I moved to our own planet. Did you hear? Four billion of them recently went on the market. I don’t know if you’ve seen the New York Times real estate section lately, but they called the area “available” and “habitable.”
We only closed on this property a couple of months ago and moved in last week. It’s called Sloane-10b, and it’s the perfect place for us! It’s everything you can’t get in New York: crisp air, unlimited square footage, and a lack of zoning laws.
Sure, it’s a bit remote. But don’t worry, it’s part of a gated galaxy.
It’s not so different than commuting from the Hamptons to Manhattan. We’re only about 12 light years from Earth. It sounds awful, but the commute just whizzes by when you’ve got some coffee, your laptop, and a spare tank of oxygen.
Now we’ve got a new bed, couch, tables, chairs, desks. It’s just like what the Chen-Liebowitzes have, only bolted to the floor and with adjustable harnesses.
Sloane-10b is the perfect place for our home. It’s a pre-war, four-story carriage house with its original fireplace. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted: French doors, parquet floors, skylights—except, you know, shipped to a new, inner-planetary location.
The shift in gravity here is a little weird at first, but it actually turned out amazingly. It was an excuse to get rid of Richard’s bachelor pad Ikea furniture! Now we’ve got a new bed, couch, tables, chairs, desks. It’s just like what the Chen-Liebowitzes have, only bolted to the floor and with adjustable harnesses.
But before you come to visit, you should know there isn’t a bathroom. We have this spacious, alternative in-home spa where you can either use this new Japanese invention that looks like a Dustbuster—or an astronaut diaper. Whatever makes you feel more comfortable.
I will say that there aren’t a ton of restaurants or cafes—or even humans—here. But the Upper East Side was overrated anyway. Three thousand a month just to be close to a mediocre, 24-hour Thai place? This way, we just sit back, order Seamless, and wait for it to parachute down to us like in The Hunger Games.
I know what you’re thinking: We’re far away from so many of our friends. Well, those of you on this email thread are really the only friends we care about. As for the rest of them, ugh. My old Mean Girls sorority sisters can keep their spinning classes and their juice cleanses. Not to harp on the gravity thing again, but guess who never has to wear a bra again and is back to her teen modeling weight? This gal!
As for Richard, he’s probably at his place on the Western hemisphere. When he’s home from work, sometimes we don’t see each other for days, you see. He has his own apartment with his personal office space, his home theater, and his minibar… He can be as messy or as loud as he wants, as long as he doesn’t disturb the locals.
Yes, there are life forms on Sloane 10-b. But here’s the thing: They’re just like us!
You know what? Why don’t you guys all move here to our galaxy? I know you probably think that sounds crazy. It’s a little “exurban” and “too close to the sun.” But Richard and I have started calling it the sixth borough. Sure, parts of the neighborhood are still a little rustic. But it’s a small price to pay for perfection.