new years at the west bank cafe: once d and em hounded me into leaving the apartment, i slid through the insanity of times square with the blindest of luck and got to the bar just in time for the tail end of “trivia with ken!” against the other end of the bar. i donned my obligatory funny hat with e and cory just in time for our team to win the chicken of knowledge. word.

d and i finally exchanged christmas presents last night: he got me a new ipod, since my ancient one is dying slowly. i teared up a little bit: it was such a thoughtful thing for him to do, both as my (frequent) boss, and as my friend. so, yeah, not only do i love my job, but the guy who hires me more than anyone else is pretty fantastic guy: lucky doesn’t even really begin to say it.

the rest of the evening gets lost in bourbon, champagne, amazing desserts, and buck slice pizza, ending in a ridiculously over-priced car service ride home. i do remember being grumpy about carson daly stealing air time from dick clark, and then really getting mad when they didn’t play “auld lang syne” at midnight, but everything else was warm and fuzzy, i believe.

so, a toast to aught eight: may it treat us as well as we treat it.