The Fireworks

Were quite scarce this last year. It's taken a bit to convince myself that it's 2010 already. I swear I felt a shift in the space-time continuum.

While I am quite content to simply stay home in the presence of pillows in a perfectly mushed position, I get this feeling that I'm a bit old to show up in a sea of over-privileged teens and consume alcohol in that same vicinity.

I'm only 24.

And those two nights, they were good nights. Good. Relatively. Despite the fact that some bimbo stabbed my little toe with her sharpened heels. Oh yes, I thought it was a guy. But now I see a U-shaped imprint atop the skin covering my coagulated blood.

Bimbo: Noun. Vacuous female single-celled organism which crawls out of the primordial ooze who will one day be turning letters in her foreseeable future and the only way she'd know which letters to turn is when they ding and light up.

Why, yes. Happy New Year to all.


Erin McKeown - To The Stars