Victorianitas

I began 2008 with a headache, a cryptic text message sent ("Ah [my name, spelt wrong] cd save numbeqt!") and the final season of Alias pressed into my arms. Could do worse. Could do much worse.

(A brief interlude for the downside of last night's party, and of this town in general, as related to me on the porch in the early hours of the morning. One of my idiot brother's friends (you can choose yourself there whether 'idiot' modifies 'brother' or 'friends') got into a fight with one of my friends at a pub a few weeks ago, which involved someone getting headbutted in the face, and now I have been told that my brother is hanging round with a bad crowd and I should do something about that, but then also told thirty seconds later that possibly the headbutted friend was asking for it, since he's being a bit of a prat lately, and did anyone tell me about the time he got drunk and stoned and ran round someone else's flat naked and hooting and then had to be pulled off this girl, but see that bit's okay, no, stop looking horrified, because the girl was all over him thirty seconds later, but the thing is that now his girlfriend wants to give her a kicking, and then my boyfriend threatened your brother, no, not that night, the other night, and he doesn't usually threaten anybody, so now things are a bit awkward, so just so you know. DEAR GOD GET ME OUT OF HERE. Anyway.)

I have no resolutions. I never keep them, anyway, and what would be more depressing than to begin a new year with a promise you're sure to break? So here's to a positive start to 2008, which I am expecting to get its act together much quicker than 2007 did. Cheers.