One year and one hundred posts

This absolutely bewilders me, but this post marks the crossroads of two achievements, mostly unrelated to each other, yet both significant in their own right.

First. This is the one year anniversary of my (third) coming to Australia. For it was a Friday night, exactly one year ago, that I deplaned my, uhhhh, plane and set off on this adventure that I've documented on this blog.

Second. This is my 100th post on this blog. One freaking hundred.

Of these two achievements, the most surprising, without doubt, is the 100 posts. Yes, I've been slacking on updating this thing recently, but that can really be attributed to a rough patch at work and a mild case of writer's block. This will change. And I'll get back to something that resembles a routine, with a couple of posts a week.

But 100 posts?? Still displayed on the right, in the "What is AK All Day?" section that I should probably get around to updating one of these days, I say: "In two months, the easy money is that I won't have updated [this blog]." Believe me, at the time I wrote that, I had every reason to fully believe that statement. For despite how brilliant and witty and inspirational and beautiful my words may appear, let me assure you that they don't come easily. Oh no, my friends. Maintaining the quality of writing on this blog, to the level that you've all come to expect and respect, is work. And work is hard.

Now, back to the first point: being here for a year. Surprising, this is not. For unless I simply couldn't find work here, the plan was always to be here for at least this long. Notable, however, this absolutely is. For it's been a fantastic year, full of new people, new adventures and new places. And it's with this in mind that I'd like to take a look back at some of the posts that have led up to this one, as I review my One Year in Sydney:

Welcome to Andy Blog 2.0
Kicking off a new era in style, with an immediate reference to zombo.com. In case this hasn't already been made abundantly clear, at zombo.com, the only limit is yourself.

A precursor
Do toilets in the US and Australia really flush in opposite directions? This was my first foray into this mystery. And much to my glee, we've yet to get a conclusive result.

The defence against hating cricket
Includes the comment, "I can't see how I personally could ever warm to [cricket]." Twelve months later? I've been in a freaking cricket winter league and played a position that I really had no business even attempting.

This is the story of seven strangers...
My first official accommodation! And a nominee from myself to myself for one of my best-written entries on the blog.

Portuguese Chicken Wars
Yikes, this one has gotten me into a bit of trouble as of late. Without a doubt, this is -- or I guess because of some recent revelations, was -- the winner of the People's Choice Award for best blog entry. Friends constantly asked me about it, and if there had since been any developments. Random people who somehow found this post online sent me strange and somewhat creepy emails about it. And well, let's just say that with these latest revelations, things have changed. More on this in the next few days, I promise.

The weekend trips have commenced
My first foray outside of Sydney on this trip, and a weekend full of randomness, with debates about shrimp/prawns, naked ninjas jumping off of cliffs and a movie about a gang of tap dancers from Newcastle. As well as the first appearance of the AK All Day Face in a post!

Two pictures tell a thousand drunken words
Still depresses the hell out of me.

There are cane toads, there are kangaroos... and then there are cassowaries
One of the recaps from my trip up to the Great Barrier Reef, detailing the horrifying night drives, with especial consideration given to the terrifying cassowary.

Melbourne -- there's an angle in here somewhere
The epic recap from my weekend trip to Melbourne. A fantastically awesome weekend that also contained some pseudo awesomeness and some not-so-awesome stuff.

A new home. And the grueling agony of an impossible choice.
The move into my next house! Which was a monumental decision to make at the time. And in hindsight, it worked out in every conceivable way possible. I don't think it would be an understatement to say that the entire course of the universe was influenced by that decision.

Worst idea ever
I still have nightmares from which I lurch out of bed in a cold sweat.

Meeting and exceeding expectations, Vol. 1, Vol. 2 and Vol. 3
Every other weekend trip up to this point had offered a nice bonding experience with a friend, or perhaps the chance to experience some culture. This was just pure raunch. And I loved every minute of it.

A postcursor... of sorts
The follow-up to my study on which way the toilet flushes in Australia. The video here? Anything but conclusive.

The toilet flusheth again
No more finality here! Will there be in the next video I post? Yeeeeaaaahhhh, probably not.

Bringing it full circle
Changing accommodation again, this time into my current place! I'm thinking a video tour is due sometime soon.

Back in America
Most of the entries on this blog -- including this current one, unfortunately -- are written and posted far too quickly, without enough time devoted to the crafting of my words. Because if there's one thing I know that people are expecting out of this blog, it's Pulitzer-caliber writing. But "Back in America"? It's easily my favorite of the 100 that have appeared on the blog to date.

And we'll end it on that! One year, one hundred posts. Where will I be on September 14, 2009? No idea. Will I have made it to two hundred posts? Or maybe just a hundred and two posts? I have no idea. But for now, we know I have to cover at least a few topics: some Portuguese chicken, some more flushing of toilets, a few Kleinballs here and there and many, many, many more AK All Day Faces.

So there's that.

Worst idea ever

I came to Australia in September. And in my first full month here -- before moving on to what was first known as The Real World house but quickly transformed into The House That Crap Built -- I stayed in my friends' apartment. And I was there all the time: sleeping on their futon, watching their TV, playing their Xbox, using their Internet and just being there... all the time.

Quite belatedly, I finally gave them the formal thanks they deserved on Saturday night. For on the six month anniversary of my arrival, I took them out to a nice, steak dinner. Or so I thought at the time.

You see, the guys had been telling me about this pub/restaurant in the neighborhood that served a one kilogram steak.* And the concept of eating a one kilogram steak is simply too absurd and ridiculous and irresponsible and moronic to pass up.**

*For those of you who aren't down with the metric system, that would roughly equal 2.2 pounds. Or 35 ounces. For those of who aren't down with the English system, suffice it to say that it's a frickin' huh-yuge cut of meat.

**I didn't take any pictures, but thankfully, I've tracked down someone else's blog post and pictures from the same restaurant, which you can view here.

Let me pause for a moment to channel my inner Comic Book Guy: Worst Idea Ever.

So there we were on Saturday, ordering 5 one kilogram steaks. The waitress thought it was funny after two or three of us ordered the steaks. By the time we had all ordered one, I think we had sent her into shock. And honestly, when you rationally think about it (which we clearly were not doing at the time), that's the only proper response.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, the steaks were served. They were monstrous. (For proper scale, take a look at the cell phone in the above picture!) We ate. And ate. And ate. And, uhhhhh, ate. And amazingly, we all finished our steaks. We left, feeling quite full and proud of what we had just achieved.

And then -- not so shockingly -- my body rebelled. First it was a severely bloated sensation, much as you'd get after any large meal. Then came the pains in my stomach. Then came the nausea. And by 11pm, I had had enough. I headed home and passed out.

Have you ever had the dreaded two-day hangover before? I have, and it's never pleasant. But have you ever had a two-day beef hangover? My God, I would never wish it upon anyone. I woke up Sunday morning with a fever. I went back to sleep. I tried eating, and almost vomited. And I never vomit. I sat around the house all day in a dazed stupor, practically drooling on myself. I went to sleep Sunday night feeling better, but yesterday, it came back with a fury. Nothing went down my stomach without upsetting it. So last night, I went to sleep at 9pm. And this morning, roughly 60 hours after consuming the steak, my stomach is still pissed at me.

All from 1,000 grams of steak. Never again.