Sunday, Dec. 31, 2006

Time Doesn't Exist, You Know? Also, "Dreamgirls".

I was perusing various meme and writing prompt sites, looking for a more structured inspiration than freeform mutterings and random brain fluff, and I was disappointed to find that most prompts dealt with 2006, passing thereof. I mean, yeah, end of the year. I get that. It’s an easy topic, and many folks take time to journal or at least contemplate a few reflections upon the year that’s officially about to pass permanently into history. That’s a huge concept, if you think about it.

However, I am D-O-N-E with 2006. Wad it up like a used tissue and toss it out, stick a fork in it, or whatever other metaphor you’d like to draw. Done. I did my survey, and that’s all the reflection 2006 is getting out of me. Though, you would think that with the way this year has wadded ME up and tossed me away, I’d be all fired up to dance on its grave, a bottle of champagne in each hand. But, instead, I choose the path of quiet ignorance. Meaning, that I’m turning away from 2006’s passing and not spending any extra energy over it, not that I’ve gone mute and dumb. For the first New Year’s Eve in probably twenty years, I’m doing… nothing. I had offers, especially the long-standing annual gathering of my college family which we started doing in 1990 when we all lived in the dorms together. I wanted to go to that, see my girls. Ultimately, though, the exhaustion and depression and headaches and overall not-well-ness led to my holing up here in my folks’ house like a Neanderthal in her damp cavern. Except my folks are better housecleaners than that, and so am I, come to think of it. It’s probably for the best, though, that I don’t drag my thundercloud into someone else’s festive mood – I’m pretty poor company, these days.

There is champagne handy, two bottles given to me by my day care provider for Christmas and a couple of bottles Mom had around here for something or other. But I’m not drinking any. Decaf black tea, right at the moment, though it’s grown stone cold from me paying more attention to my writing and various online games than to imbibing any beverage. There’s a ton of random holiday snacks – cookies and fudge and spiced sugared cashews and candy. But I’m not interested. I haven’t had anything to eat since dinner. Nor am I really interested in a pile of sugar and fat that might taste good for three minutes but then will assail me with guilt and excess calories.

Some people might say that I’ve "grown up". Since I’m "no longer a kid" I shouldn’t attend "crazy dance parties", and all kinds of other quote-surrounded statements and declarations of advice. Actually, though, it’s more along the lines that I’ve ceased to care. I’ve had people telling me for months that I have to learn how not to care. In a hundred years, who’s going to care anyway, right? No one is going to remember me, or what I went through in 2006, and even if they hear stories, why would *they* care? And while I don’t pretend that I’ve grown my skin anywhere thick enough for this sort of endeavor, I can say that I’m definitely working on it.

I was watching Lewis Black last night, as I noted in my last entry, and he had a little monologue on the passage of time. I don’t remember it all, and you can see it for yourself if you catch his "Last Laugh ‘06" special on Comedy Central, but the gist of it was that New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day are just days. There’s nothing special about them. At one point, he said something along the lines of, "Days, weeks, years… we just made it all up. How can you get all excited about something that doesn’t even exist?" And that’s a good question. Tomorrow, I will wake up, and I’ll still have to go to work the next day, and I’ll still have to change diapers and pay bills. The only difference is that, when I pay those bills, I’ll write a different number on the line on my check where it says "date". I’ll flip the next month of the calendar over, and go on about my day. I’ll still be me, and really, that’s not celebratory material.

Anyhow, before I get too bitter and maudlin and harsh on anyone’s drunk-reading-random-journal-entries-while-waiting-for-the-ball-to-drop buzz, I’m going to change the subject.

My mom and my aunt and I saw the movie "Dreamgirls" today, and that was a really enjoyable couple of hours. It was pretty much non-stop music, of the 60s-girl-group and oldies-rock-and-roll-soul variety, both of which I like a lot. A whole lot. I grew up with the stuff, among other genres, since it was Mom’s favorite kind of music. And, while Beyonce did well with her singing (I’m not familiar with her voice otherwise, so this was the first time I’ve really heard what she can do), Jennifer Hudson can *sing*, folks. With a capital S. The fact that she didn’t win her season of "American Idol" should just further prove how ridiculous that show really is. The costumes were absolutely fabulous, following the fashions from the mid -60s through the 70s, including some really incredible stage outfits for the "Dreamettes/Dreams". And the way that the story unfolded was well done, good transitions, and some pretty decent acting. I know there’s a big debate among some folks about who was better in the movie, Beyonce or Jennifer. I’d have to squarely come down on Jennifer’s side on this one, both for singing and acting. Sure, Beyonce was good. Jennifer was just better.

And, with that, I think it’s time to go warm up my tea. And this concludes Holidailies 2006. I hope December, containing whatever holiday(s) you choose to celebrate, was good to you. Catch you soon…

saturncat at 11:28 p.m.

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