Happy New Year, kids!

When I was in driver's ed, I took particular joy in silently noting my parents' mistakes. I made sure that I proved to anyone who'd (pretend to) listen how much I'd learned by talking incessantly about what poor drivers everyone else was. It was like verbal diarrhea; it poured forth without ceasing. I'm past that stage now, but I still find my simple pleasures.

My new joy is in being on the lookout for drunk drivers. I watch cars weave out of their lanes randomly and putt behind the car going 30 mph on the freeway. This game was particularly fruitful on New Year's Eve, during which I drove a total of 80 miles. I spotted the irresponsible revelers left and right, glaring angrily at them with a sense of glee and accomplishment.

This anecdote had no point, but I feel that random confessions aren't a bad way to begin the new year. Hopefully, it will channel some of the romance and dramatic explosions a la 007 movies. Enjoy, everyone.

And now an unrelated thought to kick off the new year:

"Stop kicking my baby-maker!"
-Caroline