NYE

= New years eve.

oh my

Stupid excess is stupid.
Stupid excess is so fun, sometimes! Like the daughters of the oligarchs roaming about, with fur coats and sparklers, in heels that are too high for the icy pedestrian paths and shouting WOOO! at every firework.
Stupid is good.
Stupid is free.

I have realised that I could have a quiet Christmas (obviously), a quiet birthday (2 years ago I nearly forgot it was coming), a quiet everything - but not New Years.
I'm not superstitious, and to be honest it is not a superstition, more of a personal premonition - I feel quite passionately about having a shiny, shimmery, sparkly, loud, silly-silly New Years Eve, with people around me and a buzz and glitter and, you know, the works.
I have sort of started telling myself that it almost preempts the kind of a year I will have.
And I like it.
I like having, if you would imagine, a person behind me on the hilltop, giving me a gentle push as I sledge down the hill, for more speed. That's what New Years feel like, that person.

So therefore.
Stupid is stupid.
And by stupid I mean SILLY.

Stupid is great.
M.