Smells like "meh"
There are things I should be doing or could be doing. Bills, for instance. Concocting some vaguely celebratory sort of thing to do on New Year's Eve. Getting back to writing, something that was supposed to take up a great deal of my Christmas holiday but has occupied almost none of it.
And what am I actually doing? Listening to some Floyd boots (Olympiahalle, Munich, October 12, 1973 and Fairfield Hall, Croydon, January 18, 1970), surfing the internet, and not doing much of anything. I may go out to dinner in a little bit--more because I don't have anything in my fridge I feel like messing with than because of the New Year. For whatever reason, it's a "meh" kind of day. Maybe it's because 50º weather on December 31st just plays with my head too much (I miss winter). Maybe it's being a few days from my 36th birthday, which brings the usual sensesless "What do I have to show for this year?" blues. Maybe it's the fact that I go back to work on January 2nd, my vacation coming to a sudden end. All of the above, none of the above, a little bit of everything.
In this somber spirit, allow me to share a gorgeous rendition of the classic Irish ballad, "Danny Boy"--the pipes are calling, in sunshine or shadow:
On a completely unrelated note, two minor updates to recent entries: yesterday's post on the RIAA claiming all music copying is theft, and an update to last week's post on Mars getting thunked.
Happy New Year's Eve. Or should that be, "Happy New Year's Eve!"?
Meh.
And what am I actually doing? Listening to some Floyd boots (Olympiahalle, Munich, October 12, 1973 and Fairfield Hall, Croydon, January 18, 1970), surfing the internet, and not doing much of anything. I may go out to dinner in a little bit--more because I don't have anything in my fridge I feel like messing with than because of the New Year. For whatever reason, it's a "meh" kind of day. Maybe it's because 50º weather on December 31st just plays with my head too much (I miss winter). Maybe it's being a few days from my 36th birthday, which brings the usual sensesless "What do I have to show for this year?" blues. Maybe it's the fact that I go back to work on January 2nd, my vacation coming to a sudden end. All of the above, none of the above, a little bit of everything.
In this somber spirit, allow me to share a gorgeous rendition of the classic Irish ballad, "Danny Boy"--the pipes are calling, in sunshine or shadow:
On a completely unrelated note, two minor updates to recent entries: yesterday's post on the RIAA claiming all music copying is theft, and an update to last week's post on Mars getting thunked.
Happy New Year's Eve. Or should that be, "Happy New Year's Eve!"?
Meh.
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