Me, myself, an eye

It’ll be sad to say au revoir to my 2009 Frogs calendar. I’ll just go ahead and say my goodbyes now. Croak. Ribbit. Are those the sounds frogs really make? Adios, rana. Or, rana, adios. Toodle doo.

Christmas? Done. 42 birthday? Over. Bday happened this past Sunday, December 27th. Threw myself a little birthday swaree. Some old friends, some newish friends, five children, three age three, two age 2.5. Two sets of twins, one singleton. I like the little people. I can’t remember what my birthdays were like before they showed up. Boring probably. Drunk. I’m pretty sure they were drunk.

New Years? We’re walking up the street around 8pm to a friend’s place for an hour, coming back home, putting girls to bed, lying on couch. Just a guess. If my sinuses stop draining by then, I’ll have a thimble of scotch or three. I have no tolerance anymore… just one.

I am ready to start the new year. Hello twenty/ten. Where you been all my life? Is that 2010 in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?

1 Comment

  1. Isn’t it odd how the new year somehow always holds out promise that it will be better than the last, as if there could be some seismic shift that would make it so?

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