*hums* I’d sing Auld Lang Syne, but I don’t know the words. Or even if I’ve spelled it correctly.

Ah, well. New Year’s Eve went verra nicely, if uneventfully. Watched the MTV New Year’s show with my dad. We made fun of a lot of the performers, and talked about how Jamie Pressly was going to come down with pnuemonia after spending three hours in front of a wall of windows wearing a shirt cut down to her navel. We also talked about scummy Justin Timberlake was looking, and he let me bitch about Lance being shoved into the background in yet another video. And after seeing an ad for Black Hawk Down — Ewan! ….and when did Josh Hartnett become War Movie Guy? — we sat and talked about weird war stuff and bitched about Pearl Harbor being a romance when it could’ve been a really cool war flick. And then, after the New Year’s hugs, which are probably my favorite part of the holiday, we watched an old rerun of Star Trek: TNG, and we made fun of large parts of that, as well. My dad came up with the lovely idea that the reason they had such a hard time bringing Picard back from being Locutus, was because he knew Seven of Nine was out there, and didn’t want to come back and deal with Troi’s useless ass when he could go make time with Cyber Barbie. ^__^ I love how my dad thinks sometimes, I really do.

So. Like I said, HIGHLY uneventful, but relaxing and unstressful, and that’s all I really want from a holiday, anyway. Hope y’all’s New Year’s Eve went as shibbily, and as my mom says every year when the ball drops, “may this year be better than the last.” A-fucking-men.