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Tuesday, January 2
Three hundred sixty-six days have passed since I wrote out a list of pre-millennium resolutions. I'm not usually the resolving type; as I wrote in preparation for the list last year: "What with the entire starting point of the year being arbitrary, and with full knowledge that changing oneself is damned difficult -- combined with the fact that resolutions are roundly ignored -- I am forced to believe that making such resolutions is a pointless waste of time.
"Nevertheless, I’m making ‘em. Chalk it up to pre-millennium madness."
I (purposely) haven't looked at the things since, though, based on the idea that slavishly trying to meet specific goals would be frustrating and futile. Instead, I narrowed the 16 resolutions into one overarching statement and aimed at that, figuring I'd look back a year later and see which of the individual resolutions I'd met.
So here's the scorecard: I’ve done 1, 2, 3, 4, kinda 7, most of 8 and a good chunk of 9. I’m not sure about 5, 6 and 11 and had forgotten about 10, 12 and 15. I nailed 13, 14 and 16, though. Overall, I'd have to say, not bad.
This year's list will reprise parts (the unmet parts) of last year's, as well as adding 6 new goals. I'll let you know how it goes.
Oh, yeah, and happy new year.
posted at 11:56 PM by Timothy J. Gibbons | link
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We've found a witch! May we burn her? Or, in this case, chop off her head with a machete ...
posted at 7:00 PM by Timothy J. Gibbons | link
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"I'm afraid. I'm afraid, Dave. Dave, my mind is going. I can feel it. I can feel it. My mind is going. There is no question about it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I can feel it. I'm a...fraid."
Wow. 01.01.01. Welcome to the new millennium.
Now, I want a personal jet pack. I was promised a personal jet pack.
Heck, we already have Captain Kirk's communicator and robot dogs. So somebody had darn well better get me a jet pack and -- oh, yeah -- a treadmill leading to my flying car. And I wouldn't mind a time machine that looks like a phone booth or a guide to touring the galaxy on five Altarian dollars a day, either.
posted at 3:17 AM by Timothy J. Gibbons | link
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Sunday, December 31
I haven't seen snowdrifts like this since I was a kid, heading down to the end of the school parking lot after classes to romp in the mountains of snow created by the plows. It really came down last night.
New York is a different city in the snow. This morning, around 10 o'clock, the streets were still pristine and silent, covered in a blanket of cold. That stillness prevailed throughout the day; 12 hours later, although the snow was a little more dirty and the streets a little more clean, few souls had ventured out, abandoning the alleys of Gotham to police cars, buses and a few hardy types desperately trying to hail cabs.
What a great way to ring in the new year.
posted at 4:46 AM by Timothy J. Gibbons | link
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