It did, by the way. Live up to the hype, I mean. New Year’s Eve, that is. I realized I set myself up all pretty and never did anything with it. So yes: the Omni Berkshire hotel was stunning, dinner across the street at Il Postino (or similar unintelligible Italian name) was incredible, and we got close enough to Times Square to have that moment of clarity that can only come when you’re standing in the middle of the street watching several hundred lunatics trample a barrier and come straight for you.

And I suppose this would be the time to wax poetic about all I’ve learned in 2002. But I won’t. Partly because I think it’s terribly boring when other people do it; and partly because I don’t know if I learned all that very much last year. 2001 – yes. I learned quite a lot. That’s why it was such a miserable year. It was one of those “learning experiences” that everyone with any sense dreads and avoids. But 2002 was sort of a resettling after all that learning. It was the Jell-O solidifying in the fridge, after a 2001 of boiling and freezing.

And now… Jigglers for everyone. ? So much for that metaphor. Although it is apropos of my one-and-only New Year’s resolution. And what that is, friends, is very politely not your business.

In other good news, however, I’ve just learned that Karen has jumped on this self-important bandwagon of sharing your personal minutiae with the world. Check her link out. She’s quite a bit more coherent than I am, and buckets more fun to boot.

And, what else? A wonderful bookish Christmas brought me several wonderful new ones to bury my nose in. “Good in Bed” by Jennifer Weiner: funny, true, sad, hopeful… all those things that Oprah wishes her book club disasters were. I don’t like sad books; I like happy books. And this is definitely one of them. It’s about a girl, Bridget-Jonesey demos, who’s always been fat but is okay with it… until she picks up a magazine and sees that her ex-boyfriend has become its new columnist… with his first article, “Loving a Larger Woman.” And, what I just finished last night, “The Bitch in the House.” So good. Don’t consider moving, falling in love, getting married, having kids, or growing up without reading this. It’s like having drinks with a bunch of friends, if your friends were all older, incredibly intelligent, worldly, funny, and wise. And, as nobody’s social circle is quite that good… and as mine is more of a social postage stamp… it was a lovely book.