2003-12-31

I'm not sure if this is completely pathetic or sweet and endearing, but my favorite New Year's memories involve pigging out on Nutter Butters, chips and onion dip while playing Super Mario Brothers for eight hours. Yeah, last year was a good year. No, kidding, actually that's circa '86. Really! Now I'm all about Tetris.

Speaking of feeling like an old prune-face*, I watched my obligatory five minutes of It's an Assyful Life and goddamn if George Bailey isn't the same age as me. 28. At 28 he had saved a town from the depression, resisted the lures of corporate America in favor of the common man, suffered ear damage (okay, I don't know what that has to do with anything. Oh yeah, he's extra illin' cause he's OOOOLD.), gotten married, procreated wildly, helped his employees through addictions and afflictions, bought and rebuilt a fucking house and probably assisted all the sick animals in Pottersville.

My whole life I've watched this Christmas Carol rip-off and always thought of Georgy Boy as that old stick-a-fork-in-him-cause-he's-done daddy-o. Twenty-fucking-eight? Ass factory.

Happy New Year. It's a bit belated for the European folks, who are nearing 2am in 2004, but for me, it's only 6pm and I've got a date to get shit-faced. Hurrah!

* If you're younger than 28, you're like "okay already, when's she gonna talk about dyking and drinking?" And if you're older, I willingly accept your shut-the-fuck-up.