Unsure how I’ve made it this far, but as of last Tuesday, I’ve officially lived in New York for six months. I know that’s much time in the grand scheme of things, but it feels like I’ve been here so much longer. I certainly don’t feel like an actual adult yet, but I’m getting there. SO. To close out 2018, I decided to sum up the pits and peaks of my time in the city so far.
I saw 19 Broadway/off-Broadway shows if you include repeats. 20 if Harry Potter parts 1 & 2 count as separate plays, which they might. No, I didn’t need to see Mean Girls three times, but I’m not mad about it. And no, I have no advice on how to afford seeing this many musicals; I’m also shocked I haven’t gone bankrupt yet. Not buying groceries helps.
I’ve climbed my five flights of stairs at LEAST 217 times. That’s 1,085 flights of stairs. I hate my stairs so much. In fact, as I was on my way out for Christmas yesterday, I fell down the stairs carrying my suitcase and the bag of trash I neglected taking out all week. City life never fails to thrill me.
Saw an average of 34 dogs every morning I walked through Central Park on the way to work. That’s 34 dogs in just 20 minutes. Absolute best way to start the day, assuming I actually wake up on time to walk across the park and it’s not raining or snowing and my shoes are comfortable.
Wrote 18 blog posts. At least six of them were entertaining. I’d say that’s good enough for my first six months of sarcastic lifestyle blogging.
Only shopped at Target once. I may have spent $88 despite going to get one candle, but at least I didn’t make the same mistake twice. Unfortunately, one of my roommates just got a Costco membership, and Costco is right next to Target. Impulse buying, here I come!
Went on my very first business trip!!! I mean, it was mainly a companywide holiday party in Chicago, but I did bring my work computer and send five emails. I’d call that business.
Made FIVE new friends. They may all work or live with me, but hey that’s five more friends than I had here on June 26.
Dressed as corn for Halloween. This isn’t very important, but I just thought you’d all like to know. Refer to my Instagram for evidence.
Bought three new pairs of glasses. A girl’s gotta see, right?
Six friends from home came to visit me. Stay tuned for a post about the Hotel Maddie, featuring a rave review from two of my best customers, who so graciously chose to sleep in my living room instead of the condo of a 54-year-old man one of them met on their flight. Can’t believe Isabel passed up true love for the comfort of my couch.
Both of my parents visited me twice. My brother visited me zero times because he said he isn’t interested in climbing my stairs.
Went to LA and actually had an amazing weekend, despite the rude post I wrote about the city. I might give it another chance in 2019.
Visited Boston for the first time. Did nothing but hang out at coffee shops and shop at stores I could go to in New York, but that’s what vacations are for.
Attended three housewarming parties. Hosted zero housewarming parties. Maybe we’ll host a lease re-signing party in June.
Only met one guy on a dating app who seemed like he might murder me. That’s promising, right?
Lowkey stalked one celebrity, but it was fun and lead my friend and I to a fun brewery in Brooklyn.
Cried on public transportation THREE times. Cried at work ONE time. Cried in Times Square ZERO times (this is an improvement from 2017).
Found one centipede in my apartment. Thanks to my time studying insects in entomology class during spring semester 2017, I was entirely confident in my ability to crush this lil bug with my shoe (after screaming and calling my roommate to help).
Set the smoke detector off six times, simply by turning the oven on. When I burnt some spinach and filled the entire apartment with smoke, however, the alarm did not go off. I greatly fear for our safety.
Went to my first (and probably last) SantaCon. Picked up a Santa hat I found on the ground and took it home. It had a bell on top, so it was obviously worth it.
Despite always knowing I wanted to move to New York, actually moving here was terrifying. Some guy I met in an Uber Pool told me I’d start to hate it after month four, but I’m still thriving, and can’t wait to see more musicals and eat more brunch in the new year.
14-year-old me would think 22-year-old me is SO cool, and that’s what really matters.
Happy New Year!