…a melancholy New Years Eve. I don’t know what my deal is, but rainy days and Mondays don’t bother me. Birthdays and NYE do. It’s neither fear for the future nor depression about the past, but it happens every time.

If I were to look back tho, I’d have to say I haven’t had a year like this one…um…ever. Huge highs, pretty miserable lows. Things should even out early in the New Year, and there’s that to look forward to. One thing that keeps me sane is writing crap down and I’ve been bad about that, so there’s a resolution to start with.

Generally I do my best to convince Charlie he doesn’t really want to go out into the NYE chaos, but this year I lose- more than fair given that I’ve bailed on him the last two years. So down we go, to the French Quarter. Into the madness. Between pro football and the Sugar Bowl, it’s going to be epicly packed, and although I’m generally not claustrophobic I tend toward the touchy when I have no autonomous control over where my movements and can only be carried along with the crowd. The only time I’ve ever intentionally viciously knocked a stranger in the knackers was in the Quarter on NYE, so things could get interesting.

In the meantime, lots of good things to focus on. Been out taking pictures, lots of stuff…and it’s going to be foggy tonight, which means they’ll probably cancel the fireworks (again) but everything will be misty and mysterious.

Always in favor of a little mystery, and that seems like as good a way to start the New Year as any.

Fingers crossed that wherever you are you’re doing what makes you feel best as we head into 2012.