I didn’t want to live on the Upper East Side. I’m single, female and in the arts. Quite frankly I imagined myself strolling through the West Village or the haunting the Lower East Side for the latest, greatest bands and just hanging out around art galleries and independent book stores or exploring funky, dive bars where it’s generally acknowledged that’s where the artistic fringe thrives best.

In a fantasy world, I wouldn’t have turned down a loft in Soho or a brownstone in Gramercy Park, and when it comes to dating, I’m more attracted to a guy in Levi’s with a camera or guitar slung around his neck as opposed to a suit and tie working in finance. I’m not trying to be a snob, I just wanted to be with my people.

But after months of looking on Craig’s List for a Manhattan apartment, I knew where the broker was going to push me to look even before I sat down at her cluttered desk and gave up my first born along with a healthy chunk of change just to get a tiny one bedroom apartment in Manhattan.

The Upper East Side between 1st and York where you can get a little bit more for your money in exchange for a longer trek to the subway.

Absolutely not, I said. What do you have in Hell’s Kitchen? But she was like an over zealous, career-waiter stubbornly pushing the specials. Sorry, we’re out of everything tonight but the Upper East Side. Unless you’re just popping in for appetizers-- which translated roughly to a three hundred foot studio in one of my coveted, “hip” areas.

Murray Hill?

Your price range? Out.

Chelsea?

Zip.

Soho?-- I dared to say as my voice came out in a little squeak. She simply stared at me, as her blood red fingernails hovering above her keyboard as she silently mouthed those three little words again. I see.

I’ll take the Upper East Side please.

Excellent choice.

And I have to say, despite the fact that my friends would rather cut off their tattooed right arms than hang out here on week-ends, I’m starting to like it here. You’re not going to find me complaining too much when there are pubs like Doc Watsons (77th and Second Avenue), Snapper Creek (1st Avenue between 82nd and 83rd), and the Banshee (74th and 1st Avenue). All three are laid back and friendly with bartenders who welcomed me to the neighborhood with cute accents and more aplomb than I probably deserved.

I also love the plethora of gourmet food markets, restaurants, and boutiques. I’ve secured my favorite writing spot, DT/UT (Downtown Uptown Café) where you can order a home made waffle along with your espresso, access free wire less and people watch. I am within close proximity to movies, department stores, museums, book stores, and great restaurants. I can’t wait to walk to Central Park on warm days and I plan on checking out the wine tastings and pre-auctions they hold at Sotheby’s on York and 75th.

I’m spoiled and lucky to live in Manhattan, and I’ve made friends with the Upper East Side. Case in point, last Friday when a friend of mine who lives in the ultra hip section of alphabet city called me to complain about the twenty-four hour party brigade outside her window, I kindly invited her to join me uptown. She declined, but what can you do, some people just can’t get over themselves.