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I don't really want to get into the day finances forced me to give up living in the Village, because I've moved too many times in my life, and no matter how many times I move or even think about moving, when it comes to doing either again, I get all serious and sad and philosophical. Serious because moving is one of those things that's all up to you to get done by yourself (no one I've known has ever even been around to possibly help); sad because when you pack, you find all this junk like dried flowers and ticket stubs to concerts you'd loved and other stuff you'd tape into a scrapbook if you were the scrapbook type; philosophical because moves are worse than birthdays when it comes to marking off the limited amount of time you have in your life, because moves happen less often than birthdays, so after a while they begin to mean yet another LARGE portion of your life is over and who knows how many more portions of any size you have left. So let's just say it was a fairly typical move for a pretty mobile and therefore typical post-millennium American with average disheartening financial and career status, including the typical chain smoking and the drink or two to keep from crying, and the typical crying anyway, and the typical thoughts before, during, and after the crying about how the people you'd lived with and might never see again hadn't really been as bad as you'd thought-how maybe, in a way, you'd actually almost loved them. I'm not saying that I thought I'd almost loved my roommate Sarah's quasi-live-in boyfriend, Walt: because of his superiority complex, he'd been retired to the permanent don't-even-bother-to-hate-him category, so I refused to let him even enter my mind for more than a second the afternoon I moved. Sarah herself, though, caused a hindsight-love-tweak, I guess because, compared to how she'd ended up acting toward the end, she'd hardly been a bitch at all when I'd moved in, which made me, like, extrapolate to when she'd been sixteen years old, with a good amount of certainty that, back then, she'd been even nicer than when I'd met her, which you could say...