See you next year.

I have never not looked forward to a new year on new year’s eve as much as this one. Usually I’ll pine for the year gone by because invariably someone I liked died or a radio station changed formats or something, but this will most likely be a strange new year’s celebration between crippled dogs and people that can’t eat or drink certain things because their body parts will flare up.

I spoke too soon, and my inner circle has had something very, very bad happen.

The Woman of my comics blew out her ACL in 2003, a very common injury among her people, I’ve been told, so common that she’s done it again.

(She has all her legs, btw, that picture makes her look like she’s only got one left, but when they work properly, she has four hot ‘n sexy legs that could outrun the fastest squirrel, provided she wanted to catch it. Really.)

I intend to celebrate it like it’s the last one some of us may ever see, however, which I guess is how one is meant to go about every minute of the day. I always had a problem with that concept though, because if people actually did live every moment as if it were their last, I don’t see how anything would get done. Plus, it would be very irritating to those who aren’t living every moment as if it were their last, what with all the hugging and eating peanut butter cups.

Ooh, look, I’m trying to be funny.

So, I’ll be spending new year’s with my family. There’s nothing wrong with celebrating new year’s with my dog, cats, Nan and Mum. After all, my mother mixes interesting drinks.

I’m taking a week off from the strip starting now, because I don’t know what I’ll be doing by next week and I’m turning non-funny real quick. 2004 went from a year I had made my peace with to one that had to kick me in the ass as I went through the door in the space of a second. I hope that 2005 is better for you, for me, for all the small furry creatures and for the large ones as well.