How is it that almost everyone you talk to (and I guess this would be a girl thing, please confirm this GMan, resident male) has this expectation that New Year's Eve will be this magical, life-changing moment? I think Mitzi said it best - we're looking for that When Harry Met Sally moment.
Um, me, not so much. I've always been pretty much a homebody on New Year's Eve, mostly because I'm not much of a night owl nor do I relish the thought of being out on the road with all those drunk folks. Like myself. I much prefer to be the one drooling in the corner, cradling my bottle of Maker's Mark and cooing to it like a baby.
This year we had the crew over - Badasses, David and Yvonne, Cat Door and the Mrs. It all went fine, Joey and I had worked ourselves to death for days prior trying to whip the house back into shape so by yesterday I was already whooped.
And then, it happened. I apparently ate something at lunch yesterday that didn't quite agree with the old tum-tum and spent the rest of the afternoon rushing to the restroom at work and praying that Chachi wouldn't notice the pleasant stench wafting out from underneath the ladies' room door. It was bad.
A few Immodiums later (which I want to know why it hasn't received something like the Nobel Peace Prize for being one of the most awesome over-the-counter medicines EVER) and I was finally not afraid of sharting myself. By this point, though, I really didn't quite feel like myself and only had two drinks all night. I know. Contain your astonishment, because this won't happen again anytime soon.
The kids were wild last night. We had one 1-year old, two 3-year old girls, and four 6-year old boys that acted like a bunch of wild banshees. At one point I swear I thought they were going to come busting through the ceiling of our foyer, which conveniently happens to be underneath Monkey Man's playroom. And I think at one point they were flushing things down the toilet too. I was too scared to go up there and find out.
We did an early "midnight" for the kids with hats, leis and noisemakers around 9, and the last of the Badasses left at 10. David and Yvonne left at 11, and Cat Door and the Mrs. were gone by 11:30.
Sigh. We are old.
No dramatics, everyone was on good behavior, and we had a crapload of food left over. We seriously had enough food to feed half the county. Note to self, friends love shrimp, not so much on the beef. Kind of odd.
On the good side, I was able to get everything washed up and put away for the most part - the rest can be done either today or this weekend (as far as putting the folding table away, stuff like that). I finished up in time to ring in the new year with my two favorite boys, and one cowering dog who was significantly freaked out by the fireworks being shot off by the neighbors.
On the bad side, I was wide awake at 5:15 AM and haven't been able to go back to sleep. I am hoping for a great nap this afternoon. Hoping.
2007 wasn't a bad year. Not at all. As a matter of fact, it might just go on record as being one of the better years. My dad got better. We developed new friendships. The business is doing great. We made it to our 11th anniversary, still crazy about each other 99.9% of the time. And we have the most awesome, amazing kid ever. We're lucky. I'm lucky.
So here's to 2008. I wish each and every one of you all the happiness and love that you deserve! And if it involves bourbon, count me in too.