trials and tribulations in renting

As I have mentioned before, I am moving to New York. City. Yeah, I'm that cool (let's just forget about the fact that I don't have a job yet and I've spent less a total of than a weekend there...ever. I'm always game for adventure). Anyway, my sweet roommate has been doing the work on finding us an apartment and all those things, mostly because I'm on the Vineyard and that might as well be THE MOON. Not to mention you basically need to sell your soul to the devil in order to qualify as a renter.
Typical emails would go something like this:
"Dear Stephanie,
In order to rent the apartment you and your roommate are interested in, we need to see a color copy of your license, your social security number, your bank account number, the last five years of bank statements, your debit card and pin number, your dog's rabies tag number, your home address and a record of how long you have lived there, which bedroom your parents sleep in, where your siblings live, and the indentured servitude your first born child. Oh, and 5 grand. Cash. Dropped on the sidewalk at the corner of Madison avenue and HELL. Your roommate has already done this, so if you don't act in the next 10 minutes this message will explode and probably singe off your eyebrows. And you'll lose the apartment."

Alas, all information provided, lease agreements must still be signed. I came off the Vineyard yesterday, an entire season behind me (excuse me while I ride out this crying jag....), signed my life away on a lease with my dad the real estate lawyer pointing to the spots where my John Hancock was needed. I dropped the lease in a FedEx box at 4:30 for the 6:00 pick up. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was done! We had an apartment! I ended the day lusting after this delicious chenille bedspread from LL Bean, in buttercream of course (it will go so PERFECTLY with my blue fish quilt...) and envisioning what my room is going to look like.

This morning, the stupid leasing office calls my house and tells us that the lease is basically void because....I SIGNED IT. Apparently, because I have yet to land a salaried job, I am not on the lease and therefore was not supposed to sign it. Which to me is horseshit. I'm paying rent, my parents are co-signers, and I ruined the lease because I SIGNED IT??? So now that little puppy is on its little FedEx way back to my house (because in this world of technology and instant EVERYTHING, this lease cannot be faxed or emailed, noooo), so my parents can re-sign it, and then get on the FedEx road back to NYC in time for roomie to move in Saturday morning. GOOD GOD.