Rigidly defined boundaries. The picket fences of the psyche. Borders and boxes. We all have them, individuals and groups alike. And in less than 24 hours (this close to the date line at least) we will celebrate the mother of them all. (Or should that be mutha. I get so confused). The Gregorian calendar, mans attempt to quantify time to suit his existence, is about to click over to the 2005 which will then immediately run screaming from the cacophony of noise that is New Years Eve.