I finished this millennium walking along St. Georges Rd., in the direction of home. I had gone down to Brunswick St., looking for anything that may be worth going to, but nothing compelling seemed to be happening, so I went home. At one point it looked as if I might be seeing in the Changing of the Numbers inside a café, but their stereo was playing an irritating pretty-girl-top-40-R&B-pop song, and I had a Tanya Headon moment and went back outside. Then I went home and imbibed considerable Chartreuse.
Oh well; this year I spent NYE by myself, but last year I spent it in a house full of goth kids, so this is probably an improvement.
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