I'm the one on the left.

Christmas dinner this year was some Guinness, peanut butter and cheese crackers, and string cheese from the White Hen on Western and 107th. I dragged Honorary Cousin down to Beverly Hills, Chicago, because she's a super cute dude magnet whom, I assumed, would pull a working class Irish-American hero to my side. It turned out to be a high school reunion scene, but whatever: there was beer, there was a fireplace, there were Life Stories to be told. Lonely Christmas 2006 wasn't all bad but it turns out that I must have kids around on the holidays. You can drain the joy from them to fill the cold, lonely, cavernous hole of your soul.

Then it was off to California to hang out with my sister, some old friends, and my newest friend: Modern Walking Doll with Fashion Outfit. She's the hot blond member of our posse, and the Silver Lake Hipsters loved her. Plus she can knock back some cole slaw, let me tell you.

For much of my trip I was filled with a low-grade, slow-burning fire of righteous judgment that left me feeling drained, bored, and angry at my sister. At some point I had to stop hiding from the Movie Star so I embraced the upper class California way and drank white wine in the hot tub. Then I watched DVDs of movies that haven't even been released yet, ate Goldfish crackers out of an enormous tub, and wrote in my journal like the sensitive Midwesterner I am.

My resolutions got set in early December, when I was at the Mountain; so for the New Year I resolved some silly things on a piece of paper, burnt that paper, and drank it in Andre Cold Duck. Even as I wrote them I saw how silly they were, because I could do them right now--isn't that the thing? What I need to resolve is to do the work to really want the thing I already want, if you know what I mean. I'm all about goals. Now I'm supposed to be breathing, and taking in, and being soft and nice to myself and others. That's my thing for 2007: hot tubs. My year for steady chillaxin.'