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Countdown to New Year’s
January 05, 2006
I am not what you would label as a person who is psyched about the holidays, any holidays (well, except maybe birthdays – I like to spoil and be spoiled when it comes to those). So, although I’m sure some stuff of note happened over the last few weeks of holidays and crap, I don’t really feel like re-capping all of it. So let’s start with New Year’s, or shortly before it.
The week between Xmas and New Year’s was not a whole lot of fun. I realized that I’m really pretty terrible at relaxing. When I have a lot to do, I am excellent at fucking off and procrastinating and doing things that for all intents and purposes are relaxing, but when I have designated time to relax, I get antsy and depressed. I kept trying to convince myself that I was lying in bed watching teevee because I was relaxed, but the reality was that I was too bummed out to get out of bed.
At the end of the week of malaise and ennui, I got my bullshit together, packed a nice small weekend bag (seriously, the extreme smallness of the bag was impressive) and had a fun New Year’s Eve Eve. The Friday night plan was as such: eat lots of food with friends, head to the Continental and the annual Ramones tribute show, make up with boyfriend, stay up drinking all night and head to the airport for my 5.30 am flight to Houston after last call (which is at 4 am here in glorious NYC).
Jefferson was having a small dinner with Mitzi, Meg and Viviane, and so I grabbed a bottle of wine my upstairs neighbors had recommended and set off. The spread was impressive and varied – Viviane appeared with sushi which was quickly devoured, Meg prepared her famous mac and cheese, Jefferson made special cumin and cilantro turkey burgers with sweet potato fries, Mitzi presented her grandma’s special chocolate chip cookies, and I ate lots of all of it.
Around eleven thirty, I decided to make my way to the Continental, where things were loud and fueled by alcohol. Ah, just like home. Except with the standing up. Things were almost instantly all better with my gentleman friend, and we commenced several hours of drinking and socializing before I had to hail a cab. I showed up at the airport to mingle with passengers who looked like they’d just rolled out of bed, while I looked like I’d just arrived from an East Village bar, what with the red fishnets and the inebriation. Tipsy at the airport is damn funny, take my word for it (or hell, do it yourself). I was asleep before takeoff and hungover by the time I got to Houston. And then – there was Jane, with her blue hair and the damned warm weather. We headed back to her place, where I admired her paint job and then promptly collapsed for a few hours. When I woke, we collected the items necessary for a Jane-Dacia weekend: ham, cheese, ice cream, and chocolate pudding. And porn - which I will write about shortly.
That’s pretty much the catch-up drill.
Posted by Dacia at January 5, 2006 05:24 PM
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Comments
Impressively small weekend bag? The amount of stuff I haul around daily is more than what you packed for 4 days!
Must be fun going through airport security while inebriated. I must try it sometime.
Posted by: Viviane at January 5, 2006 07:46 PM
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Posted by: Anonymous at August 17, 2006 12:33 AM
