At this point I think I'm giving New Years the clean miss for 2005/6. Why? Because New Years sucks, that's why. It's boring and annoying and people get wayyyyyyy too freaked out about it. I've had me some good ones - like the one where I went to see Titanic, or the one with all the sex, or the one when I ate the entire plate of chicken wings after watching fireworks on the roof for twenty minutes, or the one where Mark and I wasted two whole boxes of After Eights trying to break them in half exactly like it happens in the commercial. But usually, it's such a non-event - and you spend your entire evening so ferociously aware that you're failing as a human being by not having a better time - that it just winds up being really irritating. A couple of years ago, in fact, I even left a party at 11:53 because I was so bored by the proceedings that I couldn't even be bothered to wait around for seven lousy minutes. I was on King Street waiting for the streetcar when midnight rolled around.

Hmmm... this became ranty.

Well anyways, yeah. I have no good plans and I am not looking for good plans. I may go to a movie. I may clean my room. I may build a fort out of old Kleenex boxes and chewing gum, and spend the night reading porno magazines and comic books while eating soda crackers and bopping my head to the Bee Gees. It's a rich tapestry of possibility. Or in this case, a bland curtain of relative levels of boredom.