Don't Let The Door Kick You In The Ass, MotherF**ker 
or keeping up with tradition

Okay, so all two of you who read this narcissistic piece of poo know every year Geo and I walk up the street for our annual New Year's Eve standing date at our friends' house. At the stroke of midnight, we all gather to flip off the prior year.

So long, 2012, you son of a biscuit eating bi-polar bulldog!

Not that 2012 was a complete rat bastard. It wasn't. There was much to like about the twelfth year of the new millennium. For one, the winter was beautifully non-existent. I mean, I was dining al fresco in both February AND March! Pittsburgh became Raleigh, North Carolina for one glorious season. Stephanie and I went to NYC on January 5th, and we hardly needed a coat, for hell's sake. Gorgeous! Thank you global warming.

I got to travel a lot, reconnecting with old friends and prior imaginary ones. Concerts filled my dance card. My sister, Toni took an amazing early retirement buy out in June, enabling her to spend much needed unlimited time with her ailing husband. Her retirement has been a blessing for me, too. She's helping with the caring of our beloved Big Mar, plus she and I have started a breakfast club, meeting once a week to shoot the shit for hours on end. Our world-trotting niece, Regi is back for good from Japan. WOOT!! AND, my dear road trip buddy, Steph, had an adorable, chubby-cheeked cherub, Melody Jane, who has rocked her world in ways she never imagined. Oh, and the fucking Mayans were apparently as horrible at math as I am, coz the world didn't end on 12/12/12.

Que stupido.

With all that was good about 2012, there was a lot that completely sucked bong water. Besides national heart-wrenching tragedies like the senseless slaughters in Colorado and Connecticut and the devastation left in the path of super-storm Sandy, too many of our friends and family either suddenly lost loved ones or were faced with their own mortality.

Cancer is an indiscriminate asshole.

I'm happy to report they are all bravely battling their cancers and winning.

So, yeah. 2012 was a real yin/yang kind of year. The yin bit kicked righteous ass. The yang...well that beeyatch can kiss my pasty-white ass.

Hey 2013. You're on notice. Take your fucking meds.