Five years ago this month, I moved out of my parents’ house and into a quaint three bedroom apartment in Astoria, Queens.

In all that time, I haven’t moved. This is rare for New Yorkers who tend to leave apartments all the time, switching and subletting and hauling their crap all over in search of a better space. (I am the only original roommate still living here.) My apartment isn’t perfect— I hate the carpet, the windows open horizontally which makes air conditioning the place a royal pain in the ass every summer, and we do not have access to a balcony or backyard.

That being said, I love my apartment. These past five years are full of so many memories living in and commuting from and coming home to this place. I’m a quick jog from the park, I can always find a parking space, I’m down the street from the laundromat, the best Thai food lives a few blocks away and I can hear the church bells from the Greek Orthodox church every Sunday morning.

This apartment, this neighborhood, feels like home.

This slideshow from the NYTimes website pretty much sums up why.

It made me so happy to click through it today.

Thanks to The Roommate for sending it my way!

Happy Friday.