2002-12-31 14:07
digitaldiscipline
[I may or may not be The Science Guy]
Well, it's time to begin the ritual sulking.
Why do I loathe the turn of the calendar? Let's see:
- I don't do resolutions. I see no sense in setting goals I can't or won't reach, and then feeling like a loser and failure for not meeting them. Change (especially for the better) doesn't happen overnight, even in America, Land Of The Quick Fix.
- I hate Auld Lang Syne in the same blinding, irrational way I hate beets, the number five, Adrian the pissant DJ, and airline flatware. Only moreso.
- I don't care for champagne, so all the midnight toasting is a struggle between my desire to be social & ingest more alcohol figting against my taste buds.
- But the biggie is that I don't really need the whole world shouting to remind me of what a fucking failure the last 365 days were, and that there's another lump of them, just the same, to look forward to. I had some good, some bad, and a whole shitload of indifferent things happen this past year, just like everyone else. So much for that whole internal illusion of being smart, special, et cetera.
I don't need a worldwide moment of revelry to drive home and reinforce the fact that I may not, in fact, kick as much ass as I like to think I do. The calendar shouting, "YOU! You are a nameless nobody, accomplishing nothing, in obscurity!" isn't necessary.
So, this isn't another wish for a Happy New Year. Tomorrow looks just like today, meteorological vagaries notwithstanding. I just wish I had something better to do than spend what will probably be a dull night with my parents.
I miss you, my friends. Any night is better among you. Take that into Oh Three on the morrow. . . though it probably won't help a hangover.
Well, it's time to begin the ritual sulking.
Why do I loathe the turn of the calendar? Let's see:
- I don't do resolutions. I see no sense in setting goals I can't or won't reach, and then feeling like a loser and failure for not meeting them. Change (especially for the better) doesn't happen overnight, even in America, Land Of The Quick Fix.
- I hate Auld Lang Syne in the same blinding, irrational way I hate beets, the number five, Adrian the pissant DJ, and airline flatware. Only moreso.
- I don't care for champagne, so all the midnight toasting is a struggle between my desire to be social & ingest more alcohol figting against my taste buds.
- But the biggie is that I don't really need the whole world shouting to remind me of what a fucking failure the last 365 days were, and that there's another lump of them, just the same, to look forward to. I had some good, some bad, and a whole shitload of indifferent things happen this past year, just like everyone else. So much for that whole internal illusion of being smart, special, et cetera.
I don't need a worldwide moment of revelry to drive home and reinforce the fact that I may not, in fact, kick as much ass as I like to think I do. The calendar shouting, "YOU! You are a nameless nobody, accomplishing nothing, in obscurity!" isn't necessary.
So, this isn't another wish for a Happy New Year. Tomorrow looks just like today, meteorological vagaries notwithstanding. I just wish I had something better to do than spend what will probably be a dull night with my parents.
I miss you, my friends. Any night is better among you. Take that into Oh Three on the morrow. . . though it probably won't help a hangover.
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(no subject)
(no subject)
i don't do sentiment and family gatherings with any particular aplomb. give me a long weekend with some good friends and time to eat, drink, and be merry, and i'm a happy camper. see also: TheOneNuptials (which will most probably be the high-spirits nexus for me/us this holiday season, and i'm very much looking forward to it *s*)
(no subject)
At any rate, thank the cranky deities that torture us that 2002 is dead and gone like the sulky bitch she was. Maybe 2003 will at least give a decent blow while bending people over to blowtorch their asses...