January 1. 2000
My New Year's Eve was nice. I went over to my friend Erin's house and had a small gathering of maybe eight people. Not very impressive, but it was a lot of fun for someone who's sat at home with her parents every New Year's Eve since about 1996. Prior to that, I don't even think I was able to stay up until midnight. And now I can stay up until five or six am on a regular basis without even thinking about it. How things change.
As expected, the whole millennium thing was oddly anticlimactic. I dimly remember the ball dropping, all of us cheering, and then Billy Joel playing "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" and looking very old and fat and not even playing the piano at some points. I hate old fat musical stars capitalizing on their past exploits. Some of Billy Joel's stuff in the 70s and 80s was amazing, and his skills on the piano are obviously formidable, but what I saw then was pretty pitiful. Same thing with Barbra Streisand, who allowed a one minute clip to herself to be shown on television (and Tom Brokaw or whoever I was watching made a huge deal out of this). She looked absolutely petrified and sounded horrible.
Faded musicians aside, I think I fell asleep around 4 or so on Erin's couch, and then waking up at 5 minutes to nine, and remembering I promised the 'rents I'd be home by 9 am to wash up and get ready to visit my relatives up in Mountaintop. I didn't think I'd be too sleepy, seeing that I'd had five hours of sleep, plus the hour car ride, but once I got there, I felt completely and utterly exhausted. I attempted to carry on a conversation with my relatives, but soon fell asleep on the couch.I awoke in time for dinner. At the grand old age of 19 I got to sit at the grown-ups table, and drink wine. I am developing quite a taste for white zinfandel. I'm not a huge fan of alcohol in general, but I do like wine.
Next was the orgy of present unwrapping. With 5 cousins under the age of 8, it can get wonderfully chaotic. I got mostly money from my aunts and uncles. I've gotten to the stage where they're thinking, "Well, we don't know what you like or what to get you, so here's $50." Which I don't mind at all, by the way. It'll fund my trip to NYC next week. I did get some nice stuff besides money. My Aunt Marcia, who gets my prize for best gift giver in my family, gave me an absolutely beautiful journal, with a leather cover, a little button to close it, and cream colored pages with gold edges. I cannot wait to use it. I take my journal selection very seriously, and usually end up spending an exorbitant amount of money on one every few months. Aunt Marcia also got me the annual Star Trek ornament. I must have at least 8 or 9 of them by now, and someday I will sell them on Ebay for a large amount of money.
is a Recording (Demos 1994-97), Kevin Moore
food: garlic chicken
read: John B's manuscript
sight: hershey kiss wrappers
cry blackbird cry / over the waves i hear you
coal covered clouds / white snow / there they go
- Sun Orange Small, Kevin Moore
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