:D

I was just thinking how at about this time last year I was house-sitting for my family friends and having a “Home Alone” worthy experience with their cats. Weird. That seems like another lifetime ago.

In fact, I was breaking down the themes of the last few years. 

2010: The Year of the Trainwreck

Reasons supporting this conclusion: I got a DUII and 4 traffic tickets (that should really seal the deal right there, actually) I was living with a musician 11 years older than myself and performing housekeeping services for him in lieu of paying rent until  he proposed and I moved out. Hmm.  I had a little too much rock and roll going on for an average 22 year old.

2011: The Year of Change

Reasons supporting this conclusion: I changed addresses 3 times. One from the musician’s house, back to my parents’ house, and then to my Upper West Side residence 3000 miles away. New job, sold the car, traveled a lot… 2011 was a really excellent year for growth.

2012: (Tentative theme, since we are still pretty fresh into it) The Year of the Perma-vacation

Reasons supporting this conclusion: I’m not going to lie- I love living in NYC. I love that I am busy and have something going on every single night and (selfishly) it’s all about ME! I don’t have pets to let out, kids to pick up, a significant other who has any expectations of me whatsoever. It’s amazing! I go to work, where my boss loves me and I get to see people be happy with their engagement rings. I go out to bars with cool people or amazing restaurants for dinner afterwards. I go to Broadway shows (For FREE) about once a week. AND my new roommate is awesome, my new apartment is awesome, and, honestly, the only thing I can even complain about in my life right now is the weather. Life is fucking amazing. 

That said- I have a birthday party with an “All You Can Drink” Cocktail situation going on in a couple of hours. What a way to kick off Memorial Day Weekend! Tomorrow I have brunch plans, followed by a Broadway show, and on Sunday I will be attending a Zombie themed pub crawl. Bring it on!

Brooklyn Bound!

It begins. It’s moving day. This is the weekend I leave my small, disgusting upper west side apartment and move to Brooklyn. It might be my last night sleeping in my bunk bed! I’ve already started the process:

Step 1: Wake up, drink coffee made to the intensity of rocket fuel in underwear with roommate #1.

Step 2:  Stop at the delicious and comforting Absolute Bagels to try to bring about a will to live.

(Last night, after going out to gay clubs with my Aussie friend, I found myself bent over the toilet, vomiting whiskey and sushi around 2 am. I also put at least ten $1 bills into a gay dancer’s G-string. This is the sort of nonsense this girl gets me to do.)

Step 3: Go to the bank and withdraw money needed for paying roommate #1 for the bills, his bed, money order for the security deposit on my apartment, and for paying movers tomorrow. I’ll basically just be hemorrhaging money all weekend.

Step 4: Buy boxes, collect things, and pack them up. Roommate #2 finally gave me back the glass from my picture frame that he’s been borrowing to do lines of cocaine. My laundry is in process at the laundromat, and otherwise I don’t have a whole lot of stuff strewn about the apartment.

Luckily, I haven’t acquired much living here, but I always tend to drag out the entire process of packing. Man. I hate moving.