Friday, January 30, 2004

I'm soooooooooooooooooooo tired of Only Childness being looked down upon. Read the following sentence some Dr. Dude gives about birth order:

"There are advantages as well as disadvantages to being an only child. Many only children do just fine in life."

Like this is a disease or something. Substitue "Many children with siblings do just fine in life" and you really see how condescending this is.

Most people on the planet have siblings. And most of them do the research on birth order. I think being an only child is probably one of the most misunderstood birth orders of them all because none of the researchers had to go through it themselves and are prejudiced because of all the stereotypes they hear. People meet me and I can't tell you how many times I've heard "YOU'RE an only child?" Dude, there aren't that many Gen Xers who are only children, so you can't tell me you've met them all and they're all bad and psychotic.

So let's look at all the cool only children on the planet, past and present:

Frank Sinatra --He was born in Hoboken, too, so that scores him major bonus points.

Harry Potter -- Ok, so his parents didn't have time to have another kid because they got killed, but there you go. Sidenote: The kid who plays Harry is also an only. And if you read interviews with him, he's probably the most well-adjusted child actor out there.

Alicia Keys -- She writes and performs her own stuff. Creativity, people! It's an only child trait.

The O.C.'s Seth Cohen, Gilmore Girls' Rory Gilmore and Dawson's Creek's Dawson Leery: Sure, they're fictional TV characters, but they both showed the viewing audience that only children can be well-adjusted and have good family lives.

Robert De Niro -- Yeah, you tell him being an only child is bad. I'd like to see what he'd do to you.

Robin Williams -- OK, he's a little, uh, anxious, but hello!

Charlize Theron -- A bit of a crazy family life, but she seems like she turned out pretty well.

Jeff Bagwell -- Even though he's an Astro, the team where traitors go, he's still my favorite NL player.

Eleanor Roosevelt -- I didn't see her trying to steal the spotlight from her husband because she's so used to being the center of attention, now, did you?

Clark Gable --And I'm sure he doesn't give a damn about not having siblings.

Leonardo Da Vinci and Burt Bacharach are rumored to be only children -- Where would we be without great art and elevator music??

And check out PBS Kids' site on birth order. They list positive and negative traits for ALL the birth orders.

Thursday, January 29, 2004

We were talking about men at work before, and why the ones of NYC are so particular. I give you my theory -- The Metrosexual Man. I hate this term and that every guy who bothers to clip his nails is now referring to himself as such. Mr., you are not a Metrosexual for keeping up with daily grooming. It's when you go overboard with the cologne, hair gel and actually know what a Burberry scarf is that you can define yourself as such.

But there are a scary amount of them around nowadays. "That guy" I described a few weeks back at the bar that I hate? He's totally a metrosexual. And because he's getting so particular about his own self, he's getting pickier about the women he dates. I assume if a guy is going to spend so much time on his own grooming, he's going to expect his woman to do the same. Which I don't. Don't get me wrong, I don't stagger out of the house looking like an assylum escapee, but I don't dump my entire paycheck on designer clothes. J.Crew and the Gap are my best friends, not Saks and Bergdorfs.

There's nothing wrong with a guy being sensitive. And by sensitive I don't mean he has to cry at the end of Disney movies. Sensitive to me means, simply: Not A Macho Jackass. He'll help you put your coat on, but he won't say "I want you barefoot and pregnant while I make all the money." Most Metrosexuals still can't over their college frat days and will be the first to start a fight if someone looks at them crooked in a bar. So I don't buy this whole sensitivity thing that gets attributed to them. They probably don't want their "ego shattered" (tm, The Bachelorette) by a woman making more money than them. Or maybe they do so she can buy them the Burberry gloves to match his scarf...
After watching all the American Idol auditions, I've realized which people annoy me the most -- the ones who haven't given up their high school theater personality. Dude, it's called acting, not let's behave like we're on stage all the time. What sucks about New York is that these people are ALL OVER THE PLACE. I bet LA is worse. Just because someone gave you a part in the school play does not make you Sir Laurence Olivier, but tell that to some people. The good actors are the ones you don't know are actors.

If you notice, when successful actors are interviewed or are in a real-life setting, they seem normal. They don't speak like they're reciting Hamlet, don't laugh like the script just told them to, and don't exaggerate their movements like they've just come out of a mime workshop. Sure, there are some that just seem downright smarmy, but I'd like to think that's just fame gone to their head, not some character's trait they haven't given up.

Speaking of actors, wouldn't it be awesome if some celebrity just came across your blog while surfing the net one day? Like if Jude Law wanted to know if Jesse Palmer was really the next bachelor and he came across my entry about our New Year's Eve phone call? Or if Bernie Williams wanted to know if people found Jeannie Zelasko annoying and he found pictures of The Chicken? That would just rock!

Wednesday, January 28, 2004

Oh PUH-LEASE. I just read this editorial in the NY Times about how this professor finds her female college students apathetic toward issues like feminism and war. Notice that she's a professor of French and Italian and maybe that's what her students are paying for -- not rallying cries for something that, unfortunately, is getting quite boring to talk about. War, feminism -- they get more than their fair share of discussion in other classes, like, say, Political science or women's studies. Even in the dorm. But I know if I were taking a foreign language class and started getting brow beaten with these "important" topics, I'd be apathetic too.

She also trots out that women are still afraid to answer in class. Uh, is Connecticut College stuck in a time warp? I never once had a problem answering in class, and if I did, it's because I wasn't educated enough on the topic (ie, didn't study) to participate. I took several classes, where both men and women were practically falling out of their seats to answer questions (Men and Women in American Society was huge, as it always gave great debates and instead of being at odds with each other, the guys and gals came out with a better understand of each other. How's that for feminism?) when interesting discussions took place. Maybe Delaware was extremely progressive, but I'm inclined to think this was the norm. I don't ever remember being unencouraged to answer in my English lit or journalism classes. Or any other class for that matter. For crying out loud, I took a class called Baseball and Society where I was one of two girls in the class, and it didn't bother me to speak up. Why? Because I had a grasp on the topics. And I can assure you they weren't asking me questions about Mark McGwire's Andro use in Texts and Contexts (uuuugggghhhh), or any other class that wasn't sports related...But it's OK to talk about feminism when you're supposed to be conjugating French verbs?
Bob Guiney was just on The View performing his song "Girlfriend." I really can't wait to hear his next single: "Fame Whore."
I find it extremely odd that I had the easiest commute by bus I've ever had since I've been in Hoboken, and the weather was less-than-stellar. There was NO traffic whatsoever at the Lincoln Tunnel, which is just mind-boggling, but then again people probably didn't drive in today, so that's why. I wish they'd do that more often!

Oh, but just because I got to work early today doesn't mean everyone else will. I know the perils of mass transit from the suburbs during messes like this, but apparently some people don't and will chastise those who come in late or can't make it in because of bad roads or have no one to watch their kids. Because people live in the suburbs just to take advantage of their office, you know, not for any other reasons. And if you don't think there are city snobs that don't have this mindset, I have written proof that may surprise you...

Tuesday, January 27, 2004

I really, really, really, really, really, wish people in the media would stop analyzing why adults love children's books lately. It's not some deep seeded need to go back to childhood or some kind of escapism from reality (I hate this argument because isn't that what books are supposed to be for?). It's to read something different than what we normally get fed today.

Children's authors are usually very good at getting to the point quickly. None of this excess "literature" that some authors are so in love with that it takes away from the plot. Kids will sit and read long books (ie, Harry Potter) as long as it's quick enough to keep their attention. Voila! Isn't this what most adults want when reading? Not a rushed plot, but one that isn't held back for the sake of holding back? And authors today are smart enough to know that the kids aren't dumb, and can enjoy the same kind of humor and action that adults like.

OK, now I'm analyzing, but as a reader of all things, I'm just sick of journalists/editorialists acting like reading is a new phenomenon to adults, and that when they're reading a kids book it's because they're too dumb to want to read anything else. It's elitist attitudes like this that keep people from reading in the first place.

Monday, January 26, 2004

Aaron Boone has the most majorest of major spankings coming his way. He's out for the season with a torn ACL! Because he was dumb and played basketball despite it being a violation of his contract! Who plays third now? Perhaps they should just stop coddling Drew Henson and throw him into the fire already...
Two years ago today it was 55 degrees outside. And it barely went below 45 for the rest of the winter, with it being in the 50s most days. Check out the weather history at the Farmer's Almanac if you don't believe me. And look what we've got now -- Cold, Snow, Cold, more snow. Last year was the same. It was like we went from one extreme winter to the other. I could do perfectly fine with the average 32 degree temperatures. Where the hell is the average? Sigh.

Then again, I am getting sick of complaining about the weather, and hearing people complain about the weather. Put it this way, the places it's most warm right now -- Florida, Arizona, Southern California -- will be MUCH hotter than it is here in the summer when we'll be complaining that it's too hot to even go outside.
So we were watching the Joan Rivers preshow last night and she has the audacity (that's kind of redundant) to yell at Kevin Costner for getting his fiance an average-sized engagement ring. She said it should've been 2-3 carats bigger. Uh, Joan? Maybe some women out there aren't as shallow as you and realize the size of a ring shouldn't be the final word on how much a guy loves you. In fact, if you use the size of a diamond to be any indicator of a guy's love, you shouldn't be getting married, period. I am so sick of women being catty about this sort of thing. Then again, they're the ones who will most likely be disappointed when their materialism ends a marriage. I'm just tired of them giving women a bad name. You'd think they were getting married just for the ring, rather than the man giving it to them.

Saturday, January 24, 2004

Wow. One of our neighbors was so loud at 4 a.m. that I think Sasquatch was actually banging on his ceiling to make the techno music extravaganza stop. I guess even he needs his sleep too. Whoda thunk it?

Friday, January 23, 2004

The most classic quote thus far in regards to Captain Kangaroo's death, via Ken: "I thought he was already dead?!"

Thursday, January 22, 2004

Our neighbor, Jesse Palmer, is going to be the next Bachelor. Aw, man, now he'll be way famous and we won't be able to call him and invite him to our parties anymore...
The Nets. In Brooklyn. Ugh.

I seriously don't think this a two-team area for basketball. They failed on Long Island, they failed in New Jersey. I know two Nets diehards in Dexter and Vicki, but I can honestly say that they're the only faithful Nets fans I know. And that's in the entire time the Nets have been in NJ. That said, I've only ever met a few diehard Knicks fans in my life, and they all come from New York. And from what I've seen, The Garden has had its share of empty seats in recent years. Whether this is because the Knicks haven't been so hot or the fact that ticket prices for basketball are steep, I don't know. This doesn't seem to be a distraction for the Brooklyn buyers, but it's a sign of what may come.

The Nets will pull in Brooklyn for a few years. But if they should start being mediocre, it'll be just like those empty Knicks seats, but without the history that will keep the Knicks around no matter what. The Meadowlands is a convenient area, and they didn't draw much there (and just remembering that they wanted to move the Yankees there for the "convenience" thing just shows how stupid developers are). Brooklyn is a little harder to get to from the 'burbs, so they must be banking on city support. I don't know that they'll get it. I guess we'll see 10-15 years after they move in, but to me this is a huge risk being taken.

Wednesday, January 21, 2004

People! You can live without a cell phone. This totally cracks me up -- can we think back to, oh, six or seven years ago when NO ONE had a cell phone? I mean, how did we survive? That people say it's an annoyance they can't do without really concerns me. It's not heroin for crying out loud! It's called a landline and god forbid you actually have to use one...the horrors!

On a related note, NJ is banning hand held phones while driving in July. Do we actually expect people to follow this? I see people in NY, where it's banned, doing it all the time. And since politicians can pat themselves on the back, I'm going to for NEVER using a cell phone while driving. It's not that hard. I suggest people try it.

OK, I'm done with this holier-than-thou moment.
Stop the presses! It's not counterfeit, it's actually a silver quarter. It helps when you have a banker father who can tell you these things.
So I don't get all the standing ovations during the State of the Union address. I used to think it's because they thought the president said something significant, but last night I realized everyone's just giving themselves a standing ovation. Like when Bush mentioned tax relief from last year and everyone stood up in celebration. I was like "Uh, I didn't see any tax relief, sit the hell down folks." I always knew politicians were a self-congratulatory bunch, but they seriously need to get over themselves. Until they stop bickering and actually realize that their parties can get along once they shelve their egos, applause isn't warranted.

I think I have a counterfeit quarter! I noticed it yesterday when it fell and it didn't sound anything like a regular quarter. Then I realized it was WAY too shiny for 1964, and it doesn't have that brownish tint on the side. I showed Melissa and we played with it and she was like "This feels and sounds like those tokens you get at the Boardwalk." I am kind of baffled. I knew you could make fake paper money, but who really goes to all the effort of making fake coins?

Monday, January 19, 2004

I have just finished probably the best piece of literature I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Past the boring ass classics I had to read in college, over all the stupid Bridget Jones ripoffs I've suffered through (though I still love Bridget Jones) and even over the last three books that hooked me so much (A Prayer for Owen Meany Cold Mountain and Sloppy Firsts), Lonesome Dove comes out on top. Yes, the western novel that I should've had no business enjoying. But I did. It won the Pulitzer for a reason, people. It is at once gripping, intelligent, humorous, tear-inducing and the characters, god, I've never read such a well-developed bunch. As a writer, it's the most impressed I've ever been by the ability to make you care about completely fictional people. Not one cliche in the bunch.

And the clincher for why it was completely awesome -- there was TONS of description, some of which took up the long paragraphs I so despise, but my eyes didn't glaze over at a single one. Perhaps it's because it was intended to be a movie first, and then was turned into a novel. Whatever it is, Larry McMurtry may have set the highest bar for literature for me. I don't know if I'll ever read anything as completely enjoyable again.

Friday, January 16, 2004

A bunch of us at work are having fun reading online personal ads. Like the one guy who wrote that he's "strict with tradition, but liberal with values." I translated the first part to mean: "I want you to stay home and be my bitch" and Tonya translated the last part as "But I think premarital sex is just fine." Then there was the guy from Connecitcut, living in NYC, who said he'd prefer a girlfriend who's a sports fan, but not a Yankees fan, though Yankees fans could still apply. Can we say Red Sox fan? There are the guys who want women from 3-feet tall to 7-foot-11. There was a guy whose photo showed him dressed up in a Cleveland Indians uniform, to which Tonya said "You know, I'd much rather date a player than a fan. Fans can be so obnoxious!" There are guys who want to fall in love. NOW.

I think I'm going to stay single, thank you very much.

Thursday, January 15, 2004

Who was the genius that decided "Hey! Sand melts snow, so let's throw it on the sidewalk! It works in the street after all..."??? Because that nasty sand/snow combination is so much harder to walk on than just plain old snow. Salt, people, salt.

So Wednesday night television promises to be awesome in the next few weeks for one reason alone: men being portrayed as psycho and manipulative in relationships. This will happen on The Bachelorette and The O.C. and it's a nice change for once. Normally it's the ladies who get the crazy/obsessed label. Nice to see our male counterparts sharing in the fun.

Wednesday, January 14, 2004

I was reading this message board before about how JK Rowling sold the rights to the Harry Potter movies contingent on the fact that the actors in all the movies be British. There were several Brits who backed this up, saying Americans would just "muck up everything if they got their hands on it." Oh, puh-lease. If this had been done for every American novel made into a movie, we'd be called elitist. Let's focus on one of the most classic American books turned movie, Gone With the Wind. Scarlett O'Hara, a complete and utter Southern woman, was played, gasp!, by an English woman. And Vivien Leigh is now seen as the quintessntial Scarlett. Ashley, on the other hand, well, he kinda sucked. Ashley, a "southern" gentleman spoke with a British accent the whole time! And he was the only main actor from the movie to not get nominated for an Academy Award. That could stem from the fact that Leslie Howard was probablly the most corny, un-southern actor in the whole movie. But noooooo, it's Americans who muck up roles. Whatever.

Tuesday, January 13, 2004

My new favorite show is House Hunters on HGTV. It's awesome because it lets you live vicarously through people who actually have the money to buy a home. I actually start yelling my opinion at the TV when the home buyers go from house to house, like when there's a nasty kitchen that totally needs work done, or an ugly backyard, etc. It's annoying when they get too picky, because you start going "But the house had a pool and a giant living room!" but it's their money, I guess. The best part is that they'll visit the people in their new home like three months later, and I don't totally buy it's three months because extensive work has been done and you're like "no construction crew works that fast."
I love the NY Post's take on the Clemens situation. The backpage headline says it all: What An Asstro. Classic!

It's time for all of us to be mega jealous of Dexter and Vicki who are off to Hawaii today. Though their 12 hour flight made me realize something -- they're taking off when I'm at work and will land when I'm getting ready for bed. Yet it will still be daylight in Hawai when they land there. Ah, the weirdness of time differences!

Monday, January 12, 2004

Oh, joy. Clemens is going to be an Astro. And while I don't exactly feel betrayed by this, it does irk me in a major way.
1) This just proves to me Pettitte wanted the Astros all along. He and Roger probably worked it all out during the regular season or something. Jackasses.

2) As Tonya put it, what a smack in the face to the Boston fans. They were nice enough to shelve their much appropriate anger at him duing his "last days in the game" and give him a huge round of applause and standing ovation. I seriously doubt they would've done this if they knew he was simply switching leagues after this season.

3) All the pomp and circumstance surrounding his retirement. Every time he pitched we had to hear about how it was his last season, blah, blah, blah. And then the ceremony at Yankee Stadium, and then the standing o at the World Series. I knew there was a reason I didn't get all emotional during that. I could probably sense his jackassness then.

I've never been a Clemens fan. Go back and check my posts if you don't believe me. I was the same way with Darryl Strawberry and Dwight Gooden. If you played well for another team and made a name for yourself there, you'll never be a full-fledged Yankee in my mind. So while Clemens' 5 seasons in pinstripes were helpful, I didn't get all bent out of shape over his retirement. Boy am I happy about that.

So I'm watching the Eagles/Packers game yesterday and I must say I'm relived that the baseball media hasn't cornered the market on letting a human interest story overtake the meaning of a game. The Packers had as much "destiny" talk as the freaking Cubs/Red Sox, despite the fact that the Eagles haven't had a too shabby season themselves. I know the Brett Favre story was huge and sad and uplifiting that he came back to play so well after tragedy, but come on. "Magic?" It just had me rooting for the Eagles more than I already was. (Sidenote: I have many Phillyphide friends that pull for the Yankees, so I was doing my part in returning the favor yesterday. I also have many Phillyphan friends from the area who would rather gouge their eyes out than see the Yankees do well, but I was pulling for them too. Perhaps if they see their team do well, the bitterness will melt their icy hearts...Nahhhh...) Whatever happened to "may the best team win?" Ugh.

I almost got attacked by a seagull this morning. It was awesome. I cut through the courtyard of the apartment copmplex across the street from my building, and all of a sudden I hear this screech. I look to my left and a seagull is hovering there, pissed off, and realize I'm blocking it's prey or whatever it was swooping in for. I looked up and saw a bunch of seagulls hovering overhead, which is totally weird because the water is a good 10 blocks away and they don't stray that far in. Luckily, I remembered they don't have clawed feet, so I knew it wouldn't hurt me. McGraw-Hill might have you believe otherwise, but whatever.

Saturday, January 10, 2004

For the love of god, could MTV find any more sterotypical BENNIES for True Life: I Have a Summer Share? It makes the Jersey Shore look like a bunch of horney goombas. OK, so they're in Seaside, but still. There are a number of other beaches with, dare I say it, normal WEBS, that have many, ugh, summer shares. So if you have seen this and you aren't from NJ, please know that not everyone from the Garden State is like this. Please.

Thursday, January 08, 2004

Pete Rose -- cry me a freaking river. Your prison without bars? You built it and locked yourself inside. I don't even know why I'm watching this dumbass interview. It'll probably get me all worked up and I'll sprout horns or something.

Oh, but The Apprentice -- I'll definitely be making time for that, if only to figure out what the hell is going on with Donald Trump's hair. Is it a comb-over? A comb-up? A toupe? A dead fox? It's highlighted, whatever it is. As Carolyn put it "Donald Trump's hair -- One of the World's Great Mysteries."
I just saw a fight at the Port Authority subway station! These two middle-aged suburban white guys must've had their macho crossed because they were seriously ready to rip each others heads off. Somehow, they separated, but still kept jawing at each other. What makes it cool is that neither of them looked crazy, and if you see people fighting in NY, one of them is bound to be crazy. This was just two egos pissed off. Awesome.

So I had to use a sick day yesterday. An upper respitory infection kind of warrants it, I guess, though I still feel kind of panicky with only 4 sick days left for an entire year. I made the most of my day, however, by napping, going to the doctor, and watching The Terminator and First Wives Club. Quite a day, I tell you.

Tuesday, January 06, 2004

I'm not a big fan of any office with a policy for 5 sick days. Because it's basically telling its employees "We Don't Trust You." Sure, there are those that will take advantage of it, but can't they be the ones who get punished instead of those who are say, actually sick and need more than 5 days?

Today, for instance, I feel kinda crappy. But it's only January 6, and god knows there could be days that I might feel crappier. At least I can function today. But is that fair to my fellow employees who I may be spreading my germs to? I only took three sick days last year, though I should've taken more. The one time I was majorly sick was in April and I went back to work about two days before I should have. Why you ask? Because I'd already used two sick days and was worried that I might come down with a stomach flu or a migraine or anything else that would incapacitate me later in the year and put me over my five days. This shouldn't have to be a worry when your main concern is your health. Especially when the year was all said and done, I had two sick days to spare and you can't even think about carrying those days over...

Monday, January 05, 2004

Aww, so Pete Rose is finally a man and admits he bet on baseball. Big Whoop. Until they prove he didn't bet on his own team while managing them, hence affecting the outcome of games, the man is still a jackass in my book. Stats, shmats, you screw with the faith of an entire fan base and you don't deserve to be revered for what you did before that, I'm sorry.

And I totally feel sorry for any of the fans that stuck up for him, when they believed that he said he hadn't bet on baseball. I get the feeling now that he's done this, it clears his way to the Hall of Fame, by which Bud Selig will get all the credit for re-instating him. The man has been damn lucky the entire time he's been owner/commisioner and this would just make everyone believe he's a freaking savior to the game. It's a lose-lose situation all around in my eyes.

Sunday, January 04, 2004

Liana, Eric and I headed to the local bar last night to see the B-Street Band, and while we listened to the strains of Bruce Springsteen covers, I made the following observation in the extremely crowded bar:

Guys always make fun of girls in bars for their so-called “uniform”, which usually consists of tight, low-rise black pants, a tank top, black platforms and little black purse. Well, I’m going to call the men of Hoboken out on the carpet for their own attire. On any given night in any bar in the Mile Square City you’ll find Joe Cool sporting any/all of the following: An untucked white/maybe somewhat checkered button-down shirt, usually from Banana Republic or Polo, sleeves rolled up in an attempt to look casual I guess, the last two buttons under the collar undone exposing his shaved chest. If he’s of the Guido persuasion, he’ll have a white wife-beater exposed underneath. And sometimes an ID bracelet. He’ll be wearing dark-rinse jeans, not too baggy like with usual guy code, and black shoes of some sort. If he’s wearing no socks, he earns mucho points in the pretentious department. His hair is usually laden down with some product, and when he goes to smoke his “I only smoke when I’m drunk” cigarette, you wonder if his hair might react and catch on fire. And in keeping with the behavior that usually befalls these young men, when he’s making his way to the bathroom in a crowded bar, he’ll put his hands on any young woman’s waist to “gently guide” her out of the way. I hate this guy.

I do know of a few guys who fit this bill who are actually pretty decent people, but they aren’t the norm, unfortunately.

One guy who filled out every description above almost tried to “steer” Liana out of the way to the men’s room, but she saw his hands approaching her hips and swooped herself out of the way. That’s the kind of defense mechanisms we young ladies have had to adopt in recent years. And let me just tell you, it gives you a whole new appreciation for the nice guys.

Thursday, January 01, 2004

There are some things I need to remember on this New Year's. I'm a little tipsy, but it's too funny to forget tomorrow. Such as:

At Josh and Matt's we found Jesse Palmer, the Giants' quarterback, listed in the phonebook. And he lives in Hoboken! So we had to call him! But we got his voicemail, so that's not that cool. Except that we can say we tried to invite him to Josh and Matt's New Year's party. Carolyn's brother Jimmy later said he should've left a message: J-E-T-S Jets! Jets! Jets!

Then, on the radio, the song Walkin' on Sunshine played, and Melissa remade the lyrics to be "Walkin' on Sasquatch" or "Bride of Sasquatch". Carolyn, Melissa and I sang along.

At midnight, Andre champaign got passed out, which Melissa calls "The Champaign of Champions."

As we were walking home, Carolyn's sister Mary Ellen and Jimmy found a cellphone in a flower planter. I kid you not. They very graciously left it on a Jeep that had boxed in another car.

Now we're back home and warm in the apartment. My resolution for 2004 is to see the Yankees win the World Series. Woo-hoo!