welcome to 2005 ladies and gentlemen

Last night we screamed at the top of our lungs at midnight to a crowd of thirty somethings. We were in the western room, clad with slutty cowgirl dancers and all. I did my best to move to the house music, occasionally adjusting my tight black dress and feeling blisters forming on my feet. Ah, to be a woman at Storyeum's black tie new years eve bash, darting away from an overly energized male in a tight tank top trying to get his groove on with me.

Now I am starting my first day of the year with a cough, a sniffle, and a sneeze. I am sick with a cold, sitting in my pyjamas, yet still hopeful that this new year will be as bright as the sunshine today, not my infected insides.

Looking back on the year, I'd like to quote Sinatra: 'Regrets, I've had a few, but then again, too few to mention!'

I'm trying to think of New Years resolutions. For many years it was the classic 'lose weight'. Too common on many women's list of resolutions. Last year I was much smarter, my resolution as not to hold back. I'd like to think I worked that one, as I seem to become more and more outgoing. Reaching out for my desires rather than shying away from them.

Here's all I can think of for this year:
-take a dance class
-read the newspaper (this one's for journalism...)
-love myself and see that I am capable of anything

It's a good start. I hope this year brings good fortune to everyone. Or better yet, that everyone finds it within themselves to create their own good fortune. To exceed their expectations of themselves. To test themselves. To make an effort to change bad fortune. To make the most of life, of the year, of every single bloody day.

It will rain, it will pour; snow will be blown into my face. Lets make the most of it. Lets get closer for warmth. Let us curse everything that is wrong but see what is right.

Congested sinuses and all, I'm ready.


Me checking how my dress looks on my digital camera. Portrait courtesy of Brendan Young, perfect as everything he does.