New Year's Eve was successfully managed, despite an impressive lack of fore-planning. We eventually wound up in the Cavern. I used to go there a lot, back in the days of road-protest stuff, until they went heavily into drum'n'bass. Now it's gone back to its punkier roots. Well, as punk as a place can get when back in the late 80s it was a townie bar called, IIRC, the Hop & Grape (not so lovingly known as the 'Hope & Grope'). The toilets are as sticky and suspiciously wet underfoot as ever. The music was the usual mix of ska and punk (all old skool - no skater boy punk stuff - and I clearly remember dancing to On My Radio by the Selector and getting kudos from some guy for knowing some track off Super Black Market Clash). The beer was cheap and offensive. Stayed until maybe 3am then went to crash at someone's house.

Got back to find my house was surprisingly tidy still, despite having had people over before going out, and have decided my New Year attempt of a resolution will be to keep the place more sorted. Spent today inspecting the usual Mysterious Bruises of Unknown Origin (something I often seem to acquire when clubbing), curled up drinking lots of tea and watching season 4 of Buffy.