Following up on Friday's post, here are two pictures that all too vividly illustrate my state of mind on New Year's Eve.
Exhibit A: My beautiful photograph of the fireworks on New Year's. It would be nice if I even remembered a scene as crap as this. I don't. Yes, yes. Emergency, indeed.
Exhibit B: A photograph from New Year's -- from the same vantage point that I had, mind you -- that was taken by someone who had presumably consumed much less alcohol than me.I'm not sure why I felt compelled to post this, as this exercise hasn't exactly proven to be therapeutic. In fact, after juxtaposing these pictures, I mindlessly stared at the computer screen for a good ten minutes, not sure what I wanted to hurl out the window: the computer (a la Ari Gold) or myself (a la Waring Hudsucker). Fortunately for all (I think), I've decided to forge on with life and let this debacle slowly dwindle away until it's just a dull, numbing pain. And there it will live along with many other embarrassments, including (but most certainly not limited to) Prom 2000, the night I indiscriminately flagged down cars in West Philly during a snowstorm, NYE 05/06 and, yes, Goulet.
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