Year in review?

So, here we are, and it’s the last day of 2005. In the morning  , no less! Holy geez! I don’t know what’s gotten into me.

Last night, I had a strange dream. Ordinarily, I would say this is typical. On my worst dreaming day, my most unstrange dream can probably beat anyone else’s strangest dreams. My brain works in ways best not to fathom. But this dream was strange because it was, for my brain, just plain unimaginative. Perhaps I should blame the exceptionally late (or early?) hour at which I allowed myself to sleep. And painkillers?

What I got was basically a mixed-up mish-mash montage of things from the last year. It was mostly from the last month, but earlier things were there too. Movies seen, books read, video games bested (or not). Then some factual events skewed and placed out of order.

Like Professor McGonagall admonishing: “Don’t let Potter compete!” but talking about him making the gingerbread cookies that I made for Christmas. (There was a lot of dough, and it was a pain in the ass to work in all together.) Or me getting shots of muscle relaxants in my arms before going out for an audition which turned out to be a kind of birthday party during a community meeting at my old high school and my old librarian was making gift baskets. You know, utterly normal  .

I’d like to try to spin this into an actual review of the past year, but that would take too much thinking and work and, to be honest, I got nothin’. In a sometimes tradition, I have no plans for this, the most fabulous of yearly dates. My sister and I have recently discussed the pressure to be doing something simply wonderful today, and especially at midnight. Too much pressure. Too many drunks on the road. Too lazy. I’ll see what happens (maybe movies, maybe friends, mostly likely video games), I’ll stay up for the switch over, and I’ll wake up tomorrow to a fresh new year.

I don’t do resolutions. I hope everyone else’s work out, though.

Happy New Year, all!

And you atheists - have a nice day.

That's New York's Only Classic Rock Station making me smile sometimes.

Happy Christmas Eve Eve everyone! Delete words backwards as the days progress!

Thanks Pat!

Only, I think instead of just crossing things out, I will address each claim individually. Hooray! ... Don't laugh.

December

Loyal and generous. -- Yes.
Sexy. -- Um. Sometimes maybe?
Patriotic. -- Not really, no.
Active in games and interactions. -- Oh boy I hope they mean computer games! Because otherwise no.
Impatient and hasty. -- Absolutely not.
Ambitious. -- Uh. Maybe? Or, no. Having grandiose desires is not the same as being ambitious.
Influential in organizations. -- I'm going to go with "yes."
Fun to be with. -- Sometimes? When I'm not busy being completely boring?
Loves to socialize. -- No.
Loves praises. -- Yes.
Loves attention. -- Sometimes.
Loves to be loved. -- Who doesn't?
Honest and trustworthy. -- Yes.
Not pretending. -- Definitely. Except when I am on purpose. You know.
Short tempered. -- Definitely.
Changing personality. -- No? What?
Not egoistic. -- HA!
Take high pride in oneself. -- Typically.
Hates restrictions. -- True.
Loves to joke. -- True.
Good sense of humor. -- In that I find most things humorous, yes.
Logical. -- Yes.

So, that's 12 out of 23 that I agree with sans qualms. Good try though, internet!

The fucking news.

Tonight I opted to watch the final investigative report of the late Peter Jennings. First, because I loved Peter Jennings and I miss listening to him. Second, because the topic (the abysmal state of the US’s health insurance system) in one in which I have a vested interest. It was pretty good, despite the fact that I had to switch over to NBC on commercial breaks because my mother wanted to see the outcome of The Apprentice.

Somewhere around minute 40, my local ABC affiliate decided that they needed to bust in with some BREAKING NEWS about the potential transit strike. (Um. There may be a transit strike.) Only, it wasn’t actually news. They wanted to say that there was still no word one way or the other, but that there might been. Soon. Maybe. And then they showed some guy talking, who said essentially the same thing, but in a thick Jamaican accent. And he thanked some people and said a whole array of things in which I had absolutely no interest.

Because I was appalled. I was fucking appalled. ABC made a big deal over this Peter Jennings thing. So I was shocked that they’d cut into in the first place. But this is a local vs. national thing, so I honestly have no idea how it works. But I have never, ever, seen “breaking news” that was actually noteworthy or important. Never.

Some of you may remember (and it is still in my archives) that an Angel episode got interrupted by a similar event, and I completely lost my damn mind over it. Lost my damn mind. I had other things going on. It wasn’t solely the breaking news. But that did play a part. That time, the WB wanted to announce that we we’re at war yet, but we might be. Soon. Maybe.

Perhaps I have a different conception of what “breaking news” is. To me, for a story to be important enough to interrupt my programming, it has to be something that I will care sufficiently enough about to care more about the news than I do about the programming, and to be okay with the fact that my program was interrupted. You know, things like “War Ends” or “President Killed” or “Moon Explodes.” Things like that.

And it’s not that I don’t care about war. It’s not that I don’t care about the potential of a transit strike (though it honestly won’t affect me as much as it will affect people who commute in the city daily, which I do not). It’s that the “news” that they’re breaking in with doesn’t actually give new information about these things. If I wanted a second-by-second account of what was going on, I would be watching a 24-hour news channel. When the news is coming up in 10 or 20 minutes, hold the story . You know they’re just going to recap exactly what they just said when the news at 11 comes on. So what the hell?

Every second of these things annoys me. Because all I can think about is the seconds that I’m losing off the program that I want to see. And first we have to have a logo and theme music. And then the anchors have to talk to us about what we’re about to see. And then we see it. And then the anchors have to discuss what we just saw. And then there has to be the logo and the theme music again. “This has been an ABC news Special Report.” Yeah, thanks guys. Thanks a fucking lot.

It’s almost ironic that I’m judging this aggravation against Mr. Jennings. Because it reminded me how nearly every day there is less and less to like about the news media. I hate Elizabeth Vargas. That’s something else entirely, though.

Oh, Randal won.

Only geniuses will get all 30.

The New York Times Magazine can be kind of dicky, sometimes.

In other news, Birthday: had. It was pretty great.

In which I bemoan the dwindling of my youth.*

In two days, I will be 22 years old.

Holy shit that's so old! I'm so old!

Yeah, I know, I'll shut up in a second.

SO OLD!

When my mother turned 22, she had a 5 month old daughter. ...Luckily I feel no need to catch up. But, you know, old .

I supposed I better get used to saying it and writing it down. At least I only have one number to remember.


*The real point of this post is to remind you that Sunday is my birthday.