A sigh of relief: 2004 is over.

January 2, 2005 | 12:08 AM

Last night I got home about a quarter past three, after spending New Year's Eve getting my butt whipped at billiards by a teenager. I'm convinced that pool table had something against me. It would only let me sink the cue ball. Damn pool table.

I also watched some episodes from the first season of Carnivale with my old roomie. It was a pretty unexceptional evening, which is exactly the way I wanted it to be. A wild party wouldn't have suited me this time around. (Of course, does it ever?)

My wish was to let 2004 just fade away. Although there were some highlights (the news of my impending aunthood, getting a brand new Dell, Brad Pitt's muscles in Troy) the year was largely a bust.

It was the year my job got downgraded from semi-important individual to utterly replaceable pee-on. On the road I got flicked off daily by motorists unimpressed with my War is Not the Answer bumper sticker, who then called my morality into question for not supporting their politician of choice. I also watched my beloved Fat Bastard succumb to cancer, and my bank account dwindle for his x-rays and medicines. Damn, I loved that animal.

Everything just sucked for me.

Of course, 2004 was a much greater bust for folks living outside my personal bubble. Asians experienced a horrifying tragedy, Iraq continued its descent into a hellish vortex of misery, and the French collected ill will from Toby Keith fans all across America. I'm sure Canadians, though, are feeling better than ever to be living north of the border.

The cheesy Times Square countdown gave me some closure this time around. I feel relieved that the year is officially over. And I'm feeling more optimistic now that 2005 is here. There's a lot I want to get done in these next twelve months.

Among my ambitions for this year includes my final resolution. Over the years I've made promises to myself that I usually broke by January 3rd. Last year I had three: eat more greens, stick to the South Beach Diet, and stop smoking. The only one I kept was the last. I smoked the second cigarette of my life December 31st just so I'd have a resolution I knew I could stick to. How's that for pathetic?

This time around I've decided to skip the fad diet and focus on something I believe to be far more important. I've lived my life the way many others (now in therapy) live theirs. There isn't a time that I could remember not being afraid of all that life has to offer. I've passed on precious opportunities more than once (and ended up kicking myself for it more than once). I've been afraid of the big hill, afraid to talk to that guy, afraid to say no, afraid of looking stupid, afraid of failing, afraid of everything.

In other words, I'm chicken shit. And it's time to deal with that.

I vow to make 2005 the year of the fearless Drina. And no, that doesn't mean I'm going to start using ecstacy and jump off bridges. It means I'm going to do the things I've always been afraid to do. I'm going to ski down the big hill, talk to that guy, say no, look stupid, fail, and do everything else that may cause my rear end (or my ego) to get bruised.

So that's my last resolution for 2005: fearlessness. It's a change I feel is long overdue, and one that will probably do me more good than that South Beach recipe book I rented last January.

I hope everyone else is as excited about their new year as I am. Let's make this a good one. We definitely deserve it.

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