Marcie From Montreal

So with less than seven hours until the arrival of another new year, I find myself anxious to begin my diet. The way I see it, it's going to be a whole new way of looking at the food I eat, and a brand new lifestyle really. Which isn't a bad thing, 'cause frankly, I'm sick of this one. I see tonight as my Last Supper, except with less wine and more whiskey. I see it as my final chance to eat all the food that I want with no repercussions. Probably not the best of the options, seeing as I'm trying to get into the mind frame of eating less. But I have a few more hours until that lifestyle is the one I'm supposed to be living, and I plan to go out with a bang (or in my case a keg-stand and a funnel). I'm a bit nervous for tonight and unsure if I'm going to be standing alone when the clock strikes midnight, or if I'm going to be swept up in some half-assed kiss with someone whose name I'm not going to be able to remember tomorrow morning. I know the anxiety is for nothing; I have a better chance of winning the lottery and being elected Prime Minister in the same breath than getting caught up in the throws of passion with a stranger on New Year's Eve night. Besides, even if someone did attempt to buddy up with me I know I can't do anything; I'm dating someone (who just so happens to be away the one night of the year that encourages public displays of affection). And finally, if this wasn't long enough, I'd like to wish everyone a Happy New Year.