We did it, guys. We made it through another holiday season. No more cocktails with whole cranberries in them under the guise of “festive.” No more fancy dress parties that require I freeze my butt off. Of course, it always ends with the mother of all over-hyped parties: New Year’s Eve. I’m not tryin’ to front like I haven’t gone out and made a hot mess of myself in years past (see my 2009 mishap in Sydneytown). But my god, I am beyond over it. If we’re going to place great meaning on the end of the year, as we do with an NYE “bash” (the only time in which that word is used to described a gather), then equal meaning must be given to the start of a new one. With that thinking, why would I want to start my next year on earth with a hangover and shame? Nothin’ like being well-rested and eating a good brekkie to say, “Hello world! Blacktress is here!”
Not that I did that, mind you. Yesterday was the first workday of 2012 and I got to the office at 10:37am. Work starts at 9. (#depression:1,success:0) So far, I’ve been preoccupied with the Weight Watchers point values of foods and trying to figure out what side hustles I can take on to make a little extra dough.
It seems I’m right where we left off, friends. Then, I get a posting on my fb wall of this video with the line: "This is great, but I wish it was Sojourner." Yet again, there's another blacktress out there who's actually out there making things happen.
Add to that the “new looks” of Gmail and Facebook—which make everything far more confusing and create the same visual effect as a pile of vomit on my computer screen, and I’m already weary. Seriously, though: I am scared of Facebook "Timeline." I have a visceral reaction when I see a Timeline profile and fear mine may be next. I’m not even trying, y’all. I’m initiating Ghost Protocol on 2012. Disavowing the whole year, the country, all of it.
How’s TWENTYTWELVE starting for you? This could be our last year on earth, so let’s party like it’s 1999—you know, that other time it was gonna be our last year on earth.
