Picture this: New Year's Eve. Arguably the biggest night of the year. Certainly my favorite. A night for fun and friends. No gifts, no pressure. Money really doesn't matter at all. Just good times with people you enjoy. Putting old worries behind you and looking toward the future. New beginnings.
Where were you last New Year's Eve? You probably didn't have to think really hard to answer that. It just sticks in your memory, right? Who cares if your answer was not as glamorous as someone else's. You've got me beat. Last New Year's, I was driving around town with another single gal I know, hoping to see some fireworks. So, in other words, I was in a car, doing nothing. Oh, and did I mention that the radio was on the fritz? That's right. My New Year's Eve was a silent night. Yours could not have been more pathetic than that.
So what happened? How did I end up spending my favorite day of the year nearly alone and completely purposeless?
Well... that's a good question.
I used to host a party every year. When I was young teen, my parents would light off fireworks and crank the music to entertain my friends. When I got older they gave us our space. They'd go upstairs and leave my friends and me to entertain ourselves downstairs. Of course they'd check in on us periodically. Honestly, though, I think we bored them. For us, a party was a chance to spend time with good friends, listening to music and playing games. No drunken orgies for Tami's friends. We were too nerdy for that.
That's not to say we didn't have a good time. The New Year's after we graduated from high-school, Gareth proposed to Adie at my party. It was so sweet. We had an Alice In Wonderland theme that year, and he played the narcoleptic doormouse. He claimed a corner of the couch, where pretended to be sound asleep, except when she walked by. Then he'd wake up and get out part of the proposal, before falling asleep again.
She passed by on the way to the bathroom. "Adie, would you..." snore.
"Adie, my love...." snore. She laughed and went to get some food.
"Adie, me..." snore. She sat next to him, one hand on his leg, talking to her friends.
She got up to get a drink. Offered to get him one, too. "Adie, merry..." snore.
Just before midnight, when she told him that she thought she'd better find the cat to kiss, he woke up enough to ask her. Of course she said yes. They were married that April. April first, actually. Quite appropriate for them. Their anniversary is always an adventure.
That was also the year my friend Adal showed up drunk and broke a window. He's like a brother to me, and I love him, but he had been a heavy drinker since I met him, and he knew I didn't approve. I never understood the fascination with loosing your common sense and acting stupid in front of people who are going to laugh at you for it the next day. Usually on New Year's Eve he'd stop by my party early in the evening, eat (there was always plenty of good food around), and then head off to celebrate midnight with his more "festive" friends. He didn't mean to break the window. He was just trying to get our attention and tapped it a bit too hard. Thank God it wasn't my parents' place. They would've flipped. Not that my landlord was happy, mind you, but he was easier to deal with.
The last really big party I had was a few years later. The winter I was 21. That was certainly a year I will never forget.
Adal, in particular, was intent on celebrating his first New Year's Eve as a legal drinker "out." Worried that he'd overdo it and really get himself in trouble this time, I determined to throw such a great party that he wouldn't be able to resist staying at least MOST of the night. I knew that no matter what I did he'd leave before 12, but if I could keep him (and any of the others intent on following his example) around until 11 or so, I hoped it would make a difference.
I guess I should note that most of my guests were 21 or 22 that year. Funny. I never thought about it before. Except for Adal, none of us really had the urge drink FOR entertainment. Some of us were still not drinking alcohol at all. Somehow, without ever talking about it, it just became the norm for our group that we wouldn't drink when we were together. I think most of us had at least one sloppy drunk in the family somewhere, and were determined not to be "that guy." Sometimes the best example really is a bad example.
I enlisted the help of my two best friends Jade and Lena, to plan this bash. My boyfriend, Allen, didn't care much for party planning. He was a "tell me when to show up" kind of guy. Most of the time I was okay with that. We'd been dating for about 4 months, though, and with most of my friends getting engaged or married; I couldn't help wondering if he'd be that way at his wedding.
Not that I was thinking about marrying him.
We'd known each other for years. He never rushed into things. He liked to be sure.
He'd probably have to date a girl for a year before he proposed.
We had 8 months to go before I could even wonder.
I wasn't thinking about it. At all.
No. That would've been rushing things.
I wouldn't do that.
That would be wrong.
No comments:
Post a Comment