As one of my Australian friends is prone to saying, "it's colder than a witch's tit out there!" (I have no idea where she got this expression.) Either way, that hasn't stopped many people from going out and enjoying the beginnings of the First Night festivities downtown. Walking back from Boston at 3:30PM, I saw that Copley Square is already filling up with people and so far no one has been dumb enough to try and lick the giant ice sculpture in the middle of the square. There's time yet.

It turns out that my friends have bought me a ticket to go with them to Aria, a club downtown in the Theatre District. Apparently, they've had these plans for a while and asked me one night while I was drunk if I wanted to go with them, and apparently I said yes. So, as Aimee said, I may not feel like celebrating much about this past year, but I should celebrate the fact that it's over. Jerry Garcia was right -- what a long, strange trip it's been, indeed.

I guess the only thing I'm resolving for 2002 is to have a better year than 2001. And I hope you all do as well. So welcome, everyone, to 2002: A Kick-ass Odyssey.

As one of my Australian friends is prone to saying, "it's colder than a witch's tit out there!" (I have no idea where she got this expression.) Either way, that hasn't stopped many people from going out and enjoying the beginnings of the First Night festivities downtown. Walking back from Boston at 3:30PM, I saw that Copley Square is already filling up with people and so far no one has been dumb enough to try and lick the giant ice sculpture in the middle of the square. There's time yet.

It turns out that my friends have bought me a ticket to go with them to Aria, a club downtown in the Theatre District. Apparently, they've had these plans for a while and asked me one night while I was drunk if I wanted to go with them, and apparently I said yes. So, as Aimee said, I may not feel like celebrating much about this past year, but I should celebrate the fact that it's over. Jerry Garcia was right -- what a long, strange trip it's been, indeed.

I guess the only thing I'm resolving for 2002 is to have a better year than 2001. And I hope you all do as well. So welcome, everyone, to 2002: A Kick-ass Odyssey.

So, 2001 draws to a close. And quite frankly, I'm very happy that it's over. Despite all the fun things that occurred this year and all the kindnesses bestowed on me, it's been a pretty bad year -- both for me and for the world. I can only hope that 2002 holds more promise and more reason for a positive outlook.

The thing is, New Year's Day is just some arbitrary date chosen by people thousands of years ago. It's just another day. When the sun rises tomorrow morning, it won't herald some major change or the dawning of peace or an economic recovery or whatever just because it's January 1. Tomorrow is Tuesday, no more, no less, and it only means that people will spend the next few weeks scratching out "2001" on their memos and notes and checks as they get used to writing the new year. Marist University did a study a few years ago and found that out of the 18% of Americans who actually make New Year's resolutions, 56% of them break them within two months.

I'm considering staying in tonight. Somehow, it just doesn't feel right for me to go out and celebrate the end of this year, because there wasn't much worthy of celebrating. I don't think many people will forget 2001 for a long long time, though I know I would like to.

Happy New Year. I sincerely hope that this coming year brings us all happiness, prosperity and good health. Unfortunately, all we can do is hope.

So, 2001 draws to a close. And quite frankly, I'm very happy that it's over. Despite all the fun things that occurred this year and all the kindnesses bestowed on me, it's been a pretty bad year -- both for me and for the world. I can only hope that 2002 holds more promise and more reason for a positive outlook.

The thing is, New Year's Day is just some arbitrary date chosen by people thousands of years ago. It's just another day. When the sun rises tomorrow morning, it won't herald some major change or the dawning of peace or an economic recovery or whatever just because it's January 1. Tomorrow is Tuesday, no more, no less, and it only means that people will spend the next few weeks scratching out "2001" on their memos and notes and checks as they get used to writing the new year. Marist University did a study a few years ago and found that out of the 18% of Americans who actually make New Year's resolutions, 56% of them break them within two months.

I'm considering staying in tonight. Somehow, it just doesn't feel right for me to go out and celebrate the end of this year, because there wasn't much worthy of celebrating. I don't think many people will forget 2001 for a long long time, though I know I would like to.

Happy New Year. I sincerely hope that this coming year brings us all happiness, prosperity and good health. Unfortunately, all we can do is hope.

I dropped by the surreally chat room for a while tonight, it was definitely an interesting experience. They're a fun group of people. Not only that, but I was educated in the ways of DSR.

"DSR" stands for "disturbing search requests." One of the reasons I took myself off Google was to avoid DSRs, but it seems that people have made a collection of them. Seeing the kind of things people are searching for is kind of funny and scary at the same time. In addition, some of the surreally folks and a few others have put together "search extract poetry." Basically, it's poetry generated by Google -- it's when Google strings together random parts of your site to create a search result, only these guys have made it into poetry.

And now, I require sleep. Lots of it.

I dropped by the surreally chat room for a while tonight, it was definitely an interesting experience. They're a fun group of people. Not only that, but I was educated in the ways of DSR.

"DSR" stands for "disturbing search requests." One of the reasons I took myself off Google was to avoid DSRs, but it seems that people have made a collection of them. Seeing the kind of things people are searching for is kind of funny and scary at the same time. In addition, some of the surreally folks and a few others have put together "search extract poetry." Basically, it's poetry generated by Google -- it's when Google strings together random parts of your site to create a search result, only these guys have made it into poetry.

And now, I require sleep. Lots of it.

Having nothing to do and not wanting to go outside because it's freezing cold only serves one purpose -- to turn me into ADD Boy. I swear, I've not finished a single task I've set out to do all day, and I'm trying to decide if it's out of boredom or if I really am just that incapable of keeping my attention span focussed on one project at a time. Halfway through, I'll just stop what I'm doing, start something else, not finish that and go start something else. At present, Can't Hardly Wait is paused in the DVD player, Audiogalaxy is downloading Sneaker Pimps remixes, the dishwasher is only halfway unloaded, half my bills-to-be-paid are scattered across my desk and --

Having nothing to do and not wanting to go outside because it's freezing cold only serves one purpose -- to turn me into ADD Boy. I swear, I've not finished a single task I've set out to do all day, and I'm trying to decide if it's out of boredom or if I really am just that incapable of keeping my attention span focussed on one project at a time. Halfway through, I'll just stop what I'm doing, start something else, not finish that and go start something else. At present, Can't Hardly Wait is paused in the DVD player, Audiogalaxy is downloading Sneaker Pimps remixes, the dishwasher is only halfway unloaded, half my bills-to-be-paid are scattered across my desk and --

My roommate, the conservative softspoken late-twenties Iowa native that he is, has been taking advantage of being in an urban setting to explore different cultures and avenues of thinking over the past several months, which I'm encouraging him to do (I still think that our apartment -- inhabited by a liberal New England city boy and a conservative Midwestern farm boy -- sounds like a bad "Friends" spinoff and I'm surprised a network exec hasn't knocked on our door with a contract yet) and not just because I'm trying to get him to see the inherent evil that is George W. Moron, but because it's good that he experience the cultural and entertainment options that a city has to offer. He said that the farm his parents own is so out-of-the-way that it's technically not even within a town -- it's just territory that's part of the state of Iowa but is not within the bounds of any particular town or city. Having never lived in a place where there is space between towns, this blows my mind. Hell, I'm completely used to crossing the border into a new city or town every 5 minutes with no space in between them.

Either way, this translates to him listening to music other than the country music that seems to be ever-so-prevalent in the Midwest. (On a side note, there are more country music stations than any other kinds of radio stations in the country -- precisely because of the reason that there are so many in the Midwest.) He's been experimenting with rap lately on Boston's big urban station, but it's actually more amusing to see a six-foot-two rail-thin rhythmless white boy trying to get down to Petey Pablo or Ludacris than almost anything I've seen lately.

His gentle compromise is Kiss 108. For those of you who aren't in the Boston area, Kiss 108 is owned by Evil Megacorporation Clear Channel, and this particular station is -- to put it simply -- bubblegum pop. Quite frankly, on a cold winter day, my music of choice is definitely not sweet-to-the-point of saccharin. But rather than rain on his parade, I'll turn down my computer speakers so he can listen to his shiny happy pop while I brood over the Pixies.

My roommate, the conservative softspoken late-twenties Iowa native that he is, has been taking advantage of being in an urban setting to explore different cultures and avenues of thinking over the past several months, which I'm encouraging him to do (I still think that our apartment -- inhabited by a liberal New England city boy and a conservative Midwestern farm boy -- sounds like a bad "Friends" spinoff and I'm surprised a network exec hasn't knocked on our door with a contract yet) and not just because I'm trying to get him to see the inherent evil that is George W. Moron, but because it's good that he experience the cultural and entertainment options that a city has to offer. He said that the farm his parents own is so out-of-the-way that it's technically not even within a town -- it's just territory that's part of the state of Iowa but is not within the bounds of any particular town or city. Having never lived in a place where there is space between towns, this blows my mind. Hell, I'm completely used to crossing the border into a new city or town every 5 minutes with no space in between them.

Either way, this translates to him listening to music other than the country music that seems to be ever-so-prevalent in the Midwest. (On a side note, there are more country music stations than any other kinds of radio stations in the country -- precisely because of the reason that there are so many in the Midwest.) He's been experimenting with rap lately on Boston's big urban station, but it's actually more amusing to see a six-foot-two rail-thin rhythmless white boy trying to get down to Petey Pablo or Ludacris than almost anything I've seen lately.

His gentle compromise is Kiss 108. For those of you who aren't in the Boston area, Kiss 108 is owned by Evil Megacorporation Clear Channel, and this particular station is -- to put it simply -- bubblegum pop. Quite frankly, on a cold winter day, my music of choice is definitely not sweet-to-the-point of saccharin. But rather than rain on his parade, I'll turn down my computer speakers so he can listen to his shiny happy pop while I brood over the Pixies.

Reasons I should crawl back into bed:
#28: Without my knowledge, the heat was turned down slightly last night. There's no place in my area code warmer than under a blanket while I wait for the temperature to go back up.
#42: When it's 26 degrees outside, where else am I supposed to go besides Mexico?
#64: I've already gone through the entire Sunday Boston Globe.
#79: Mmmmm... cotton jersey sheets.
#95: I have to make sure I'm well-rested in order to catch episodes of both "Futurama" and "The Simpsons" tonight.

Reasons I should crawl back into bed:
#28: Without my knowledge, the heat was turned down slightly last night. There's no place in my area code warmer than under a blanket while I wait for the temperature to go back up.
#42: When it's 26 degrees outside, where else am I supposed to go besides Mexico?
#64: I've already gone through the entire Sunday Boston Globe.
#79: Mmmmm... cotton jersey sheets.
#95: I have to make sure I'm well-rested in order to catch episodes of both "Futurama" and "The Simpsons" tonight.

Ironic how most of the recent drug commercials on TV have only a 15 second description of the drug and then a 45 second description of all the side effects droning on and on while showing pictures of people happily running through fields of flowers without a care in the world. You'd think the fact that it takes three times as long to describe the detriments of the drug versus the benefits would actually give people a moment's hesitation before running off to their doctors to get prescriptions for them.

Ironic how most of the recent drug commercials on TV have only a 15 second description of the drug and then a 45 second description of all the side effects droning on and on while showing pictures of people happily running through fields of flowers without a care in the world. You'd think the fact that it takes three times as long to describe the detriments of the drug versus the benefits would actually give people a moment's hesitation before running off to their doctors to get prescriptions for them.

It's one of those things that doesn't quite make sense to me, but it still sticks in my head. Whenever I see an actor or an actress for the first time in a movie (even if it wasn't their first film but it's the first film I see them in), that role stereotypes them in my head and I can't quite convince myself that they're able to play other roles or that they're not really evil people. Examples:

- Tommy Lee Jones as a crazy terrorist in Under Siege. For the longest time, I couldn't find him believable in a good-guy role.
- Laura San Giacomo as a bad girl hookin' up with the Devil in "The Stand." Seeing her in that mini-series was the main reason why I never liked her show "Just Shoot Me." Well, that and the fact that it's fairly dumb and just not funny.
- Alan Rickman as a not-so-crazy terrorist in Die Hard. And I was confused when I saw him in his next film and he didn't have a German accent.

It could be said that they're doing such a great job acting to be able to convince me of how believable they are in their characters. Or it could be said that I'm just strange.