Wednesday, July 05, 2006

My Year of Living Dangerously (relatively speaking, that is)

Those of you who don’t have the events of my life plotted out on your calendars (quick! When’s my birthday?) may not be aware that I recently celebrated a big anniversary. Now this anniversary isn’t of the 12-step (I already don’t do drugs) or boy-related variety (dying alone). No, July 1st was the one-year anniversary of me saying, “Dude. Fuck this” and moving to New York. Actually, the “Dude. Fuck this” happened more around June 23rd, but the move itself was a year ago Saturday.

Now, I could write about how much I’ve changed and grown as a person in this year, but I’m not really sure that I have. I’m pretty much the same old Kona. Except that I drink both coffee and beer now, two things that I never did before I moved here. So there’s that. Since I’ve got nothing insightful to say about my experience thus far, but do believe that this is a noteworthy occasion, I present to you:

My Year of Living in New York: by the numbers

Number of times I’ve moved
4

Number of buroughs in which I’ve lived
3

Number of roommates I’ve had
4 (plus the family I rented a room from the first month I was here.)

Number of roommates I’ve wished would fall into an open manhole
3

Number of jobs I’ve had
5

Number of jobs I currently have
2

Number of nights illegal fireworks have made me feel like I live in Fallujah
8

Number of times I've stepped around someone in a subway station who very well could have been dead
1

Number of delis/bagel carts that have been my deli/bagel cart
7

Number of delis/bagel carts that I had to stop going to because the deli/bagel cart guy creeped me out
3

Number of times I have cooked something more involved than grilled cheese and soup
4

Approximate number of miles I’ve driven
800

Approximate number of hours I’ve spent on public transportation
500

% increase in the number of times I’ve been referred to as “mami”
100

Number of concerts I’ve been to
4

Number of Rhett Miller concerts I’ve been to
2

Number of bizarre lies/rumors about me that make me seem a lot more interesting than I actually am.
4

Number of those rumors that ended up on television
1

Number of those rumors I helped start
1

Number of stalkers
1

Number of guys with whom I’ve drunkenly made out in the middle of a bar
5

Number of guys with whom I’ve drunkenly made out in the middle of a bar whose name I actually remember
4

Number of guys with whom I’ve drunkenly made out in the middle of a bar while I was supposed to be dating someone else
2

Number of guys with whom I’ve drunkenly made out in the middle of a bar while I was supposed to be dating someone else who also made out with Adonilia.
1

Number of times I climbed onto my windowsill to hang curtains above an open window with a five-story drop.
6

Number of times I was convinced I would fall backwards and die, leaving Buckley to feast on my oozing brain for days or weeks, depending on how long it would take for people to find me because people don’t know where I live now
3

Number of people who have my new address
1

Number of people who have my new address who live within an eight hour drive, are related to me or could be considered any sort of emergency contact
0

Living dangerously, indeed.

1 comment:

Adonilia said...

It took me three solid minutes to figure out the reference to me. I feel extremely dirty right now. And kind of scared. What (who) else have I done? I would say that moving was a good thing, except for the fact that these "What the hell are you talking abo - oh, yeah, right. That guy." moments happen to me all the f-ing time.