I’ve decided to give up numbering these entries. I catalogue everything by number and/or alphabet in my work and home life and it is becoming a kind of sickness. I think I must try to create a little chink in this armor of obsessive-compulsiveness and this is the perfect place to start.

Happy 2005 to you, my loyal readers! Yet, another opportunity to start afresh and attempt to make at least one change, so that in some way 2005 will be distinguishable from 2004. Now that I have given up numbering these entries, I feel I have done my bit and can relax for the remainder of the year.

I recently watched a documentary called “Our Favorite Toys.” In this documentary, I discovered that Twister and Nerf were both invented by the same man. When asked the question, “What makes a great toy?” this inventor gave, what I believe to be, a rather sublime insight into human nature in his answer. He said, “A good toy is one which breaks a rule.” He explained that Twister broke a social/moral rule in that it allowed people who perhaps did not know each other very well to get in very close proximity to one another. Whereas, Nerf allowed children to play with a ball in the house – something mom and dad had previously told them not to do, but could no longer say as the new, softer ball was not endangering their property. I think this inventor understood the innate desire for human beings to rebel against any authoritarian figure or social construct. And, the resulting sublime feeling that ensues when the rebellion is successful and forever changes the way things are done. I often feel hemmed in or constricted by the things I should do, must do, and need to do. And, like most people, the things I want to do, would like to do, or desire to do, seem out of reach or are frowned upon. Of course, restrictions are necessary, but all too frequently I feel they create a strangle-hold on the individuality and human nature that makes each of us so interesting.

New Year’s Eve has been the source of one ridiculous event or situation ever since I can remember celebrating outside of the relative safety of my parents’ home. In previous years, I have been involved in fender benders, altercations with members of the opposite sex and wardrobe malfunctions (thank you, Janet) all on New Year’s Eve. Many of the stories connected with this annual “celebration” are better left out of print. However, I still wonder why every New Year’s Eve is such a disaster. I sometimes think it is because I don’t drink as much as everyone else and that if I did I might at least be left with very little memory of the evening’s events the next morning. I also tell my husband that we have always had a lousy time because we have never planned far enough ahead and gotten tickets to a truly, wonderfully, hideously over-priced event. Yet, I think the real reason for this annual disaster of an occasion is that I don’t really understand what I’m supposed to be celebrating. Should I be thinking: Thank the little cherubs in heaven, that 2004 is finally over? OR Yippee, another year awaits and I’ll have 365 more days to use more or less unwisely? I guess I just don’t get it. And, I can’t decide whether the evening itself or my current attitude is more ridiculous. Oh well, I’ll let you know next year.