A few random thoughts on my mind this new year’s eve.
Time zones complicate things. Ryan Seacrest and Carson Daly showed their parties up until ten. Minus the ball drop. Then the news came on.
Cyan wanted to see fireworks. Thanks to YouTube, we watched fireworks in Dubai, London, Paris, China, Sydney, Amsterdam, and Japan. They made it until about 1030. My night owls.
It’s sad to live in a time zone (Mountain) that is so dull that CNN restarts the countdown for the west coast. Woo Denver? No. Skipped. NYC check. Miami check. Some place in Indiana with a watermelon check. Drag queens in Key West check. Nashville check. New Orleans check. I guess the world doesn’t care how we do in the Q.
Ryan Seacrest. You sir are no Dick Clark.
I’m sure my dogs won’t care for the gunshots. Fireworks I get. I hate guns on regular days. And holidays. Take a shot. Don’t fire a shot.
I can’t say I love champagne. New Year’s Eve needs a new drink.
Ok, I’m just going to say it. The misuse of apostrophes (especially at this time of year) really grinds my gears. I’m no grammarian, but c’mon peeps. It’s not Happy New Year’s. It’s Happy New Year. Unless you are going to follow the new year’s with a day or an eve or resolutions or anything really. The “‘s” notes possession.
As the last Mand standing, I’ll read a few minutes of A Game of Thrones and try to stay awake.
Happy New Year!