rejectomorph | Tak a Right Gude-Willie Waught

By the time the arbitrary New Year reaches California, it's already soiled. That's the price of living so close to the backside of the International Arbitrary Date Line. The sky was quite nice today, though. The storm had moved south, on its way to drench Pasadena and its parade, I suppose, leaving behind for my contemplation a remnant of puffy, turreted clouds which, toward evening, took on an icy, blue-gray color. They looked like immense, sagging stalagmites floating in air, with no stalactites above them to explain their existence. I got the feeling that the sky was one big metaphor that I didn't quite get. Reality has a way of often making me feel obtuse.

As far as my personal experiences went, I'm a bit better disposed toward 2005 than I was toward 2004. Despite a hellish summer, the winter was mild, the autumn was fairly decent, and spring was quite splendid. My schedule has further deteriorated, but not to the point that I can't deal with the inconvenience. And whatever negative events the year brought me, they were offset by the fact that this was the year that Sluggo was replaced! Anyone who has been around long enough to remember when every third post in this journal was a rant about the chaos which that malevolent machine brought into my life will realize how important an improvement that was.

The world in general didn't fare so well, I know, though it didn't fare so well the year before, either. In fact, not faring well is an old habit the world has, and I don't expect to see that change anytime soon. Eventually, that habit is bound to engulf me personally, but it didn't happen in 2005, so I'm around to see it off. I guess that means it was a good year for me. It didn't kill me.

I see by my clock that it is already January 1st in the eastern time zone. Happy Most Recent Day to Arrive, easterners!