20 minutes after midnight, as I was climbing the stairs to our apartment, some jackhole set off an m80 and I fell full length on my belly. On a landing, which is lucky, previously I skidded on my shin falling down on my way out. I have since decided I hate fireworks. And stairs. Happy ending, husband took good care of me and my therapist got me in.
Happy fucking new year. First thing this morning, I fire up the desktop, open my email, and right on top is an urgent message from the bank that issued my single credit card to tell me that SOMEBODY ordered something costing $185 and change on Amazon. So now I don't have a credit card until they send me a new one. Therefore, tomorrow's follow-up appointment at Kaiser has to be cancelled, because neither Uber nor Lyft operate on a cash basis, to my knowledge. I was supposed to get the newest Covid and pneumonia vaccines and shingles part 2. Damn.
I always feel pressured to go out and do something on NYE because Jan 1 is my birthday. But these types of parties involve everything I dislike: dressing up, staying up late, loud music, crowds - hate it. So I stayed home and enjoyed an adorably janky (but still delicious) cake my sister and nephew made me. It was the better choice. Happy New Year, everyone!
Happy Birthday! I think you made the better choice for sure - NYE is not my thing either AND you had delicious cake. All of the best for both the and your new year!
Love the NYE stories here . . . For me, maybe the best NYE ever involved (warning: Canada stories) a 3-4 day weekend holed up in a cottage in Prince Edward County, Ontario, drinking and eating and playing music. High point was playing Hotel California on some old guitars, everyone singing along, and the keyboardist for a popular Canadian band (that shan’t be named) pulled out a clarinet and played the guitar solo from memory, whatever key we were playing in. I know good musicians do this stuff - but it was magic and it’s in my heart forever, and the ticking over of the clock was irrelevant.
Then again, some years earlier, I was a 16 year old hanging out with a few cool older kids and going to the NYE concert at Maple Leafs Gardens (Rush? Max Webster? Goddo? All of the above?). But driving to and from with a bag full of joints - so many that we had one each most of the time, like royalty; running into people we knew on Yonge St, in a city of millions; going back to the coolest kid’s house to drink homemade wine. All trumped by my mother the next morning at the all-you-can-eat buffet (Jumbo shrimp! Steak and eggs!), looking at me pushing food around the plate, saying “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were hung over.”
But truly the best NYE was passed outside, walking around our suburban Toronto neighbourhood at 17, with a friend who I’d just nursed through the obligatory 10 minutes knees down in front of the toilet. Going for a long walk in the Toronto cold to clear his head, talking about everything and nothing, todo y nada, when the fireworks started to go off and we realized we were unavoidably celebrating the New Year together and with no one else. “Happy New Year.” “Happy New Year.” And the ticking over of the clock was again irrelevant, as with any good New Year celebration, and we remain dear friends 40 years later.
Ta, Rebecca. We purchased our groceries, took the laundry to the laundromat (we even folded it when it was dry), and are now relaxing in the pied-a-nuage with the dogs and cats. Adorable and adored fiancé Meccalopolis is making fresh tomato sauce; we'll have it over roasted vegetable ravioli. We already ate our salad, and are sharing a lovely glass of Italian red wine.
Tomorrow's black eyed peas are soaking on top of the fridge. I found a recipe for vegan cornbread and shall make it in the cast iron skillet (in the oven, not on the stovetop). We have lovely greens, whole short grain rice (why is it called brown rice when it's not?), and a smoking gun to flavor the beans. I've never eaten black eyed peas on New Year's Day; another new experience to enjoy.
Beloved made his end-of-year donations. I'm hopeful that enough people will subscribe that we'll have a whole week of cats instead of rats (I know. Rat libelz!1!!!!11!!), and look forward to that.
20 minutes after midnight, as I was climbing the stairs to our apartment, some jackhole set off an m80 and I fell full length on my belly. On a landing, which is lucky, previously I skidded on my shin falling down on my way out. I have since decided I hate fireworks. And stairs. Happy ending, husband took good care of me and my therapist got me in.
I was cold sober too. I just walk like a drunk!
Happy Birthday America!
Wait.
Happy fucking new year. First thing this morning, I fire up the desktop, open my email, and right on top is an urgent message from the bank that issued my single credit card to tell me that SOMEBODY ordered something costing $185 and change on Amazon. So now I don't have a credit card until they send me a new one. Therefore, tomorrow's follow-up appointment at Kaiser has to be cancelled, because neither Uber nor Lyft operate on a cash basis, to my knowledge. I was supposed to get the newest Covid and pneumonia vaccines and shingles part 2. Damn.
Just one more year, then Wonkie can buy beer and weed in the (few) places you still can't.
Happy Birthday! Does turning 20 mean you'll no longer offer adolescent humor? It would be a great loss...
I always feel pressured to go out and do something on NYE because Jan 1 is my birthday. But these types of parties involve everything I dislike: dressing up, staying up late, loud music, crowds - hate it. So I stayed home and enjoyed an adorably janky (but still delicious) cake my sister and nephew made me. It was the better choice. Happy New Year, everyone!
We had brie drizzled with chocolate sauce, champagne, and watched Barbie.
Happy Birthday! I think you made the better choice for sure - NYE is not my thing either AND you had delicious cake. All of the best for both the and your new year!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WGU_4-5RaxUyoutube.com/watch?v=ZdqjcMmjeaA
Fanfare for the Common Man
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=umj0gu5nEGs
Time Warp
Love the NYE stories here . . . For me, maybe the best NYE ever involved (warning: Canada stories) a 3-4 day weekend holed up in a cottage in Prince Edward County, Ontario, drinking and eating and playing music. High point was playing Hotel California on some old guitars, everyone singing along, and the keyboardist for a popular Canadian band (that shan’t be named) pulled out a clarinet and played the guitar solo from memory, whatever key we were playing in. I know good musicians do this stuff - but it was magic and it’s in my heart forever, and the ticking over of the clock was irrelevant.
Then again, some years earlier, I was a 16 year old hanging out with a few cool older kids and going to the NYE concert at Maple Leafs Gardens (Rush? Max Webster? Goddo? All of the above?). But driving to and from with a bag full of joints - so many that we had one each most of the time, like royalty; running into people we knew on Yonge St, in a city of millions; going back to the coolest kid’s house to drink homemade wine. All trumped by my mother the next morning at the all-you-can-eat buffet (Jumbo shrimp! Steak and eggs!), looking at me pushing food around the plate, saying “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were hung over.”
But truly the best NYE was passed outside, walking around our suburban Toronto neighbourhood at 17, with a friend who I’d just nursed through the obligatory 10 minutes knees down in front of the toilet. Going for a long walk in the Toronto cold to clear his head, talking about everything and nothing, todo y nada, when the fireworks started to go off and we realized we were unavoidably celebrating the New Year together and with no one else. “Happy New Year.” “Happy New Year.” And the ticking over of the clock was again irrelevant, as with any good New Year celebration, and we remain dear friends 40 years later.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HBfuBRYpwsc
Cool Cat
Are we gonna get kitties? I gaved some more monies on top of the monies I already gaved. I don't ask for much, just kitties and artickles by Evan.
I gaved more two, kitties pleases
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrVLL7soS1U
I Am Woman
You guys're just the best.
Back atcha, Pablito!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GjKajpMoUxM
Roads To Moscow (by request)
Thank you there, BlueSpot!!
You're Welcome!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ak_MTXQALa0
Year Of The Cat
An excellent selection!
Also enjoy Roads to Moscow.
Also.
...two broken Tigers on fire in the night, flicker their souls to the wind.
Oh I wait in the line for the final approach to begin.
It's been almost four years that I've carried a gun,
at home it will almost be spring
The flames of the Tigers are lighting the road to Berlin...
Ta, Rebecca. We purchased our groceries, took the laundry to the laundromat (we even folded it when it was dry), and are now relaxing in the pied-a-nuage with the dogs and cats. Adorable and adored fiancé Meccalopolis is making fresh tomato sauce; we'll have it over roasted vegetable ravioli. We already ate our salad, and are sharing a lovely glass of Italian red wine.
Tomorrow's black eyed peas are soaking on top of the fridge. I found a recipe for vegan cornbread and shall make it in the cast iron skillet (in the oven, not on the stovetop). We have lovely greens, whole short grain rice (why is it called brown rice when it's not?), and a smoking gun to flavor the beans. I've never eaten black eyed peas on New Year's Day; another new experience to enjoy.
Beloved made his end-of-year donations. I'm hopeful that enough people will subscribe that we'll have a whole week of cats instead of rats (I know. Rat libelz!1!!!!11!!), and look forward to that.
They are our end of year donations, darling.
Ta, sweetheart. Ours.