new year, old boots

Benjamin Franklin said “In this world nothing can be said to be certain, except death and taxes.” He may be known as the First American but he wasn’t all that because he forgot the third certainty, which is that every year someone will ask “So, what are you doing for New Year’s Eve?” You then have to make watching the telly sound more exciting than sleeping with Ryan Gosling, which today it will be because I have three hours of live reports and interviews from Iowa to watch on CNN. Best New Year’s Eve EVER.

I never seemed to have much luck with New Year’s Eve. A few years ago I missed the celebrations as I had to get up very early on New Year’s Day for a work trip to Slough, a town condemned by John Betjeman and whose biggest rival is the nearby town of Staines. It was clearly a portent for the shit year to come. The next New Year I was in bed with pneumonia, which was marginally worse than going to Slough. Pneumonia makes you feel like you have a small, fat child sitting on your chest. The antibiotics I was prescribed warned of possible feelings of paranoia, and I was convinced there actually was a small, fat child sitting on my chest and that it was payback for all the years I’d been horrid to kiddies.

But perhaps my luck is changing. This year I don’t have to go to work, there are no nasty little fatties on my chest or in my head, and I am in fabulous DC. And I will enjoy punching the next person who asks me if I’ve made my New Year’s resolutions, but not so hard that I drop my bag full of New Year booze.

New Year’s resolutions hark back to ancient Rome, when the two-faced Janus was placed at the head of the calendar to look back on past events and forward to the future. I wonder if Jesus made any New Year’s resolutions (“note to self – really mustn’t go mental in that temple again”).

I shall be very disappointed if the Republican candidates don’t announce what their resolutions are for 2012. Jon Huntsman, who is currently running up and down the borders of New Hampshire shouting “Fuck you!” at Iowa, will probably resolve to get his daughters on telly more. Romney will resolve to get his kids off the telly altogether.

If I was ever pushed at gunpoint to make any resolutions, I would have only one, to try to be more tolerant. Not of Republicans, don’t be silly. More like this kind of stuff:

  • Female joggers who don’t wear proper sports bras. Horrific. It’s like watching Animal Planet.
  • Anyone who walks down the street reading their iPad. You are a moron.
  • Women who tuck their jeans into their boots. Are you going horse-riding? No? *massive quizzical yet sarcastic look*
  • Callista Gingrich’s hair.
  • Anyone who talks louder in public than the voices in my head.
  • Friends in the UK who don’t believe that the Republican nomination campaign is  more exciting than a by-election in Corby.

2012 will be a fantastic year. We have much to look forward to, primarily Thierry Henry back in his boots at Arsenal, the Olympics, and Obama kicking some Republican ass.

Happy New Year x

Callista at play

Callista at work

About hebe in dc

British Girl in Washington DC @hebeindc
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