Wednesday, 01 January 2003 | Times Square accident

I was accidentally standing in a throng of people near the widely televised "ball" while on my way somewhere else, naïvely trying to bypass the party-hat entourage and the police barricades an hour before the year changed its last digit. At 11:40 the three of us gave up, stopping just when the crowd became too thick to penetrate. We were surprised to find that, at that spot, the ball was in our field of vision (at least until several children were hoisted and perched on shoulders, blocking the view for those behind them).

"So that's it? It's 2003?" I hadn't meant for that to sound so cynical, but it wasn't clear to me whether we had crossed over from the realm of anticipation to the realm of celebration. Almost immediately after the countdown, the crowd began to come undone, and we escaped, hopping on a train that took us to a party in Brooklyn. It was fun, but. I think New Year's Eve is overrated.

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Two sad things yesterday. (One.) I came across an NRDC tote bag that I'd been given at the retreat I attended in October, a bag that I stored on top of a high cabinet right after I came home. Last night I discovered a rotten sandwich and a rotten piece of carrot cake inside of that bag. (Two.) My $3 doormat was stolen. Since then I've been trying to rationalize it, thinking, "Maybe someone just borrowed it," but my mind stops there, realizing that doesn't make any sense. Every time I see the naked floor in front of my door, I'm reminded, and freshly annoyed.

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By the way, I'm still working out this new design. I'm planning to change the interior pages within a few days, once this page is finished. Feedback is very welcome.

(happy new year)