I have a few problems with New Year's Eve. They are as follows.
I'm getting sick of the people that complain about it. And yes, fittingly enough, I'm complaining about people who complain. It seems like the one night of the year that people who don't like going out-out* feel like they have to defend their idea of fun. Do whatever makes you happy, like you do the rest of the freakin' year, then stop worrying about it.
*Going out is dinner and home in bed by eleven. Going out-out is dancing, cocktails, and home in bed by 3ish... maybe 5ish if you live in a city that doesn't sleep.
I love both going out and going out-out. I also love staying in and analyzing the sociological implications of the Real World/Road Rules Challenge... I have the benefit of friends with whom I have fun doing anything or nothing. But in a New Year's Eve out-out scenario, it seems that once the ball drops people want to start making out with strangers, which I'm not so into (ahem, anymore). Suddenly it seems like the world is divided into two choices: spending the night watching Dick Clark and listening to a married friend analyze the doilies that she used while hosting Christmas dinner, or at a bar deciphering the slurred semisweet nothings of a drunken marketing manager. Where is my middle ground, people? I'm 28, not 21, but also not 51. I'm too old to have the first words that I hear in the new year be "we want pre-nup, WE WANT PRE-NUP!" But I'm too young to not have fun dancing to Billie Jean. Next year, we're going to have to get creative.
You know that means having another party. You heard it here first. I'll make sure the office is clean by then. And crazy neighbor's weird friends are not coming this time.
Although that WAS a funny New Year's... let's flashback to a few years ago...
I dimly recall a 17-person game of Moods, before everyone I know forbid me from ever bringing it out again (one exact quote: "If I ever see that game again, I'm setting it on fire"). Crazy Neighbor had just moved in and invited me to his party, so at one point the Bride and I went over to say hi. Crazy had a sign on his door asking people to remove their shoes. I have all hardwood downstairs too (actually, I have the same apartment as him, if you want to get technical) but for cryin' out loud, just swif tomorrow. It was particularly funny because his friends were all decked out in dresses and suits, but no shoes. Crazy introduced me to his girlfriend at the time, who was insane. On the other side of the room, one of his friends was hitting on the Bride. You know how my living room has a couple of steps that go down? And if you don't know me in real life, my living room has a couple of steps that go down, which I'm sure you've shrewdly deduced by now. Well, he was shorter than her and standing on the two steps above her in order to be taller. Anyway, I told Crazy to come by later if he wanted, which ended up being famous last words because my humble abode became their afterhours. One guy was most accurately described by Steve as a bad guy from Miami Vice. He was like, "Do you like zee Chemical Brothers?" and proceeded to pull out his own CDs and put them on my player. He ended up making out with Elusive Jen's friend in the parking lot. Um, awesome. And the short guy was there too, schmoozing the Bride again and back standing on the same step on my apartment that he'd been on in Crazy's apartment.
There was a woman there who was talking at length to Steve about how she loves bad boys. Who was she? No one knows. Steve is such a sport. Then she came up to me and told me that I have a pure soul and that I exude sweetness and that good things will come to me and she should know because she's a Pisces and what is Steve's sign? She ended up wandering out at some point in search of her friend whom she said lived up the street. Here's hoping she found her.
Then around 4 or so, Elusive Jen went and told zee guests that they had to go home. That girl always has my back.