Alas, the year 2000 (Common Era) comes to a close. All in all, it will go down in history as the Year that Wasn't. In a lot of ways, 2000 was like Star Wars: Episode I. It had impossible hype to live up to, and it didn't even come close. What happened this year of any note, apart from the wacky election? Nothing, that's what. For all of the Y2K mania, this was one of the most average, uninteresting years we've ever had. I'll be happy if next year is half as average.
I must say, too, that the year 2000 was the best year I had in a long time. Since this year nothing absolutely calamitous happened to me, this was the best year since 1993! Sure, nothing particularly good happened to me, either, but these days I'll take what I can get.
Well, let's go over the events of the year of my life. My Great Plan after I moved to PhilaHELLphia involved the following changes in my life: I needed a new apartment, new clothes, a new computer, a new TV, new furniture, and a new car. I have all but the last one already taken care of, and I've got the money for a car. I just want to squeeze some more miles out of my current one.
"Is that your idea of happiness?" says the scruffy Temple University kid in Row 15. "Is material wealth all you're after?"
My stunning retort includes a half-full whiskey bottle hurled at his head. Too bad for the guy next to him that my aim is a little off.
Of course material goods alone can't make me happy, but they sure can make me comfortable while I'm sitting home being miserable. I'm HARDLY a person who needs to have oriental rugs and sheets woven from virgin pubic hair, but I do need a few creature comforts. Heck, I don't even have a real bed yet, sleeping on a mattress on the floor! I've been doing that for 3 YEARS! I think I've earned a real bed, by golly! That's next on my list...after a display case for my tarantulas.
Ah, yes. 2000 saw my tarantula collection explode from an idle hobby to an all-consuming obsession. In case you need a reminder, my current census is 14 tarantulas, 3 scorpions, and a bunch of cockroaches. I also picked up 2 hatchling bearded dragons which are doing quite well, although that was more of a pity purchase.
Coincidentally, I somehow managed to get through the entire year without so much as kissing a girl. I've also managed to go 27 years without kissing a guy, but I'm not really lamenting that too much. I gotta say, this is the driest spell I've had since...well...1993.
Now that I think about it, I'm seeing a definite connection between my relative happiness and my inability to get chicks. Sure, the great One-Eyed Albino Pennsylvania Pants Python gets the urge to hunt its natural prey, the wild panty pussy, but it doesn't seem to be worth it. All I've got to show for such entanglements are a number of knife wounds to the back and the tainted memories of what would otherwise have been happy years.
So what am I going to be doing this year? For starters, I'm definitely going to begin drinking more. After all, alcohol has been proven to reduce your risk of heart disease AND your chance of getting Alzheimer's! Ah, beer. Is there anything it can't do? Of course, this is contingent on moderate consumption, but I think I can swing that. Other than that, I'm perfect. The rest of the world should change to suit me for a change.
I'd vow to avoid chicks and ensure another prosperous, happy year, but I know that I'll immediately cave if the opportunity ever arises. I might as well resolve to break my oxygen addiction or not to buy more tarantulas this year. No sense making a resolution I know I won't keep.
BTW: NOW it's the new millennium.
