Since the mid-nineties, Justin
has been saying, ironically or not, that this is how your first entry of the new year should always be, and so it is.
- tales of new year's festivities
Went to the 506 with triskellita for Red Collar and Hammer No More The Fingers, and left before Kerbloki headlined, because we're old. (Photos to come, I'm too tired for uploading tonight.) Celebrated the departure of one of our favorite bartenders for New York. Unintentionally rubbed elbows with a lot of ridiculous hipsters who play music in this town. But the real festivities are after ez arrives from the south later today and the DC crew comes down from the north on Friday.
Also I took pictures and drank PBR and the Tar Heels won, which is good, because if they had lost to Nevada, 2009 would have already been a wash.
- accounting for some unfinished business
you are broken and callow, cautious and safe
you are boundless in beauty with fright in your face
until someone loves you, i'll keep you safe
but like them, i will give you away
- envisioning the year ahead
I am going to take photos, dance, get a new tattoo, buy a prime lens, go to a lot of concerts, feed starving rock musicians when they're not on tour, and watch some tall dudes who ball try to do something amazing.
- any sort of resolutions
Gain a paid publication credit. Shoot a band's promo photos. Explore this amazing state I live in. Take a picture every day. Manage my money better. Get the Stump's brakes fixed. Get laid. See 100 shows. Eat a lot of club sandwiches at Linda's. Go on the road with some of my boys for at least a couple of days. Swim in the ocean as much as possible. Take pictures of snow.
- an extended and unfortunately eloquent harangue
singing don't let me into this year with an empty heart
- a final thought composed in silence
Sid is the Patrick to my Pete; shep. is my partner in every crime but especially the ones involving TJ Yates, poetry portfolios, and bartenders dressed like the guys from 300; the rest of the Axis keeps me laughing and in beer and chocolate and porn; quicknow is always willing to stop and take that photo, and I love her for it; the American Aquarium boys are my favorite drunk rock stars to offer food and manfresheners to; a hell of a lot of you guys kept me going this year at those times when I wasn't sure I knew how to; and finally, the iCat, who pees in the bathtub and is eating my couch in systematic passive-aggressive fashion, but who loves me regardless of everything.
I remain, as always, thankful for direct flights, cordless drills, my family, Chicago public transportation, wireless internet, OS X, John Sheppard's hair, photos of Ben Browder kissing Michael Shanks, torrents of television shows from the BBC and Canadia, Kerry Wood as bad-ass new relief god (even in Cleveland), Matt Wieters and his throwing arm and his ass, prime lenses, sunrise at the beach, live music, really good fanfiction, successful college basketball (and baseball) teams, marijuana, Patrick Stump, Frank Iero, and Jon Walker, and Keira's ass. You know. The important things.
And now, to bed, bed.
Happy 2009, kids -- may this year be better than the last one. So far it hasn't sucked.