right right right right RIGHT!!!!!!

as sarah silverman would say...

it's time for new year's resolutions. how could i fucking forget those. (thank you, purple. you're light years ahead of me down there.)

...resolutions for 2006...

*new job. sing it loud, sing it proud, say it twice. scream it from the mountains of manhattan. for all of god and man to hear, PLEASE, JOB GODS, FIND ME ANOTHER FUCKING JOB.

*a few more countries in the passport. not being greedy, nothing too wacky, but i made that resolution awhile back and have done a good job of doing this. have some ideas for 2006, but we'll see how this pans out.

*get back on the horse: body building. fucking hernia be damned, i'm not buff enough. (eek, did i just say that?)

what worked in 2005? what crashed and burned? for my next entry!

this is getting to be a routine...

ok, i hate to be so low-brow, we all know i'm above THAT, but i've really had it with the dry weather at the cubefarm and, i guess, here in the flophouse. i've never had a sinus infection before, but if i even as so much as touch my nose this winter, it bleeds. in the morning, i blow this charming mass of goo that resembles a sunset. why? what's going on with me? is this what i have to look forward to until spring and the ungodly new york humidity sets in that, it would seem, lubricates my nasal passages?

eek. if it's not one thing with me, it's another. i guess i won't be wearing a white shirt today. :-(

and i think that will about do it...

with the holidays o' 2005. a lovely season, sans the petty stresses: 'did you get an invite to so and so's party?' 'no. did you?' 'no. are they not having it this year?' 'dunno. i'll find out.' and, 'oh shit, a card from so and so. why won't he just GO AWAY. that friendship was over years ago. do i have to send one back?' not to be outdone by, 'no, the display says all christmas stuff is 50% off.' 'but that's for 2005 christmas stuff.' 'and what is this?' 'left over from 2004.' '... so wouldn't take beg the question of 75% off?!' 'no, it would beg the full price buddy.' and so on and so on and so on.

marge told me, on christmas morning, mind you, when i asked why the dogs were suddenly so well behaved that it was the result of their newly medicated states. the girl dog: senile. walks into walls and forgets where she is and is on an anti-somethingorother. the boy dog: 'anxiety disorder' and on a downer. it's like having timothy leary in the home. 'drop out, tune in, chill out' or whatever his tag line was. my drug fiend dogs. 'and don't ask me how much all this cost. you don't want to know.' 'is their christmas merrier than mine?' 'well, since you asked...'

reminds me of the time the boy dog had a seizure a few years back and mum calls me to tell me. at work. 'oh it was just terrifying! there he is writhing on the deck, and i'm out there reading for book club getting some sun, and i immediately scoop him up and drag his little lifeless body into the back of the benz' 'you did what? could he walk?' 'he was a little out of it, but yes, he could walk.' 'ok...' 'and dr. dolittle performs all these tests and determine that he's ok, but might be getting old or might have eaten something in the yard, and gave me a prescription for valium should it happen again.' 'for you or the dog?' 'don't be smart! for him!' 'oh, ok. continue...' 'and isn't that the saddest story you've ever heard?! poor guy. he's getting up there.' 'i do think it's unfortunate that he's on the junk. i mean, i put eighteen years in that house and got nothing but a weekly therapist visit, and he puts in eight and gets the goods. i'm a little jealous, to be honest.' 'don't be smart!'

so while the holidays were lovely, i'm glad to be back in 'ordinary time' more sooner than later.