Andrew fucking Daniels texted me at 4:30 in the morning, totally interrupting my wine-induced coma with a "Happy New Year hot stuff" message. Then I couldn't sleep again because the damn cats wanted to play/love/eat me.
Now I'm awake, but restless. Not hungover or angry, but full of anticipation of what the cold cold day will bring. Work tomorrow; prepare today.
Well, I did a top ten list of things I'm thankful for in 2007 in an email to the Vancent, and it doesn't bear repeating here due to the cliche nature of the list. I'm basically thankful for my family, health and gadgets -- gigs and gigs of gadgets.
So now comes the part where you make a New Year's resolution. I haven't done one for so long because I'd fail so many years at not being able to quit smoking, that now that I have quit I just don't know what to resolve. Lose weight? Na, that'll come with cancer and old age. Work less? Yea, right. Relax more? Maybe that's one to contemplate.
I know. Phoon more. It's a great hobby, and I could definitely find more creative places to photograph around here. OK. That's it: Three phoons submitted to phoons.com in 2008.
Oh, that and more sex. I'm greedy like that.
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