How is it that I have nothing exciting to do on New Year's Eve? I am tempted to say it's because I am a boring person with no friends, but that can't be right. One year I went to Las Vegas for New Year's. That was a good time. I kissed nine guys at midnight. Nine guys in the span of a few minutes, that's a record for me. But that was eight years ago. Since then, my New Year's Eves have been a horrifying montage of suburban bars, light beer, puking tequila, and children on "jolly jumps." That's what happens when I go to other people's parties.
Last year, I made a turducken and had friends over for drinks and games. It was a nice time, but I don't want to do it again. My plan for this year is to sit on the couch with a bag of cookies and a bottle of pineapple rum and watch some girl-on-girl porn. I have had a bit of an addiction to all three of those things lately.
I am not sure what I will ultimately end up doing on December 31st, but here are ten things I won't be doing.
- Watching anything with "Rockin'" in the title.
New Year's Eve celebration specials are crap. Dick Clark recently had a stroke and Regis Philbin is stepping in for him. I would kill myself before I would watch that. I don't want to see people frolic on the streets of New York. I don't want to watch fireworks set to music. I don't want to see Usher sing about cheaters. Besides, I don't know how to work the picture-in-picture thing on the TV and, as mentioned previously, there is a good chance I will be watching porn.
- Wearing a party hat and blowing a noise-maker.
I think those things only happen in movies anyway. If I were to be invited to a party and take leave of my senses long enough to actually attend, there better not be any glittering hats or twirling noise-making devices. I will leave. I will drink all the rum and then I will leave. I will drink all the rum, kiss someone's boyfriend and then I will leave.
- Going to Las Vegas.
That shit was crazy. I am too married for that now. My husband doesn't permit me to make out with strange men in the street and if that isn't part of the deal I might as well stay my ass home.
- Paying a cover charge.
I don't hang out in bars much anymore so I wouldn't even know where to go. The places I would think to go to would be lame and the places I would want to go to wouldn't let me in. Also, at least for me, going to bars in the past often resulted in kissing random people so, as I said in #3, that is no longer an option.
- Volunteering at an art museum just so that I can see Harvey Danger play.
This is pretty specific, I know. It happens to be what my friend in Seattle will be doing and I just don't get the appeal. Seeing great live music for free? Ok. Working for it? No thanks.
- Attending anything described as a "ball," a "bash," or an "extravaganza."
A friend recommended the New Year's Eve Ball at the Roosevelt Hotel. It includes midget acrobatics. Any event that is black-tie optional is going to have skanks in party dresses and skeazy assholes in tuxes, I don't want to have to deal with, even to see midgets performing tricks.
- Spending $250 on dinner for two.
I have nothing against an expensive meal - my husband and I just blew $120 on steaks last Saturday - but I have had food poisoning several times after eating at a restaurant on a holiday. They get busy and they get careless. I refuse to spend the first day of 2005 puking up overpriced stuffed mushrooms.
- Making resolutions.
This is something that I have done every year and every year it results in the same list of things. If I haven't done them by now, they ain't getting done. Sorry, my fat ass, you are here to stay.
- Playing board games at my mom's house.
She tries to get me to go there every year. Fine, I'm boring. Whatever. I am still not spending New Year's Eve at my mom's house.
- Pillowfighting in a baby doll nighty.
I won't be doing it, but I might be watching it on pay-per-view.
By day, Michelle is an upstanding businesswoman and new mom. By night, she saves the world from peevishness and botheration at the Peevery. In her spare time, she writes what she knows and tries to show, not tell. |
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