January 3, 2008

For only the 2nd time in my entire life, the mega party girl (yeah me) stayed in for New Year's Eve. Maybe it's because I wasn't feeling well and was all partied out from the week before. I was done with people, places, drinking and talking. We had 6 parties to go to, and I kept vacillating between the Silver Room and Charlie Matlock's party. I ADORE countdowns, I live and breathe them, I will do 8 countdowns a night (different time zones, different parties) if I could. My childhood was made up of beautiful New Year's Eve parties, ones in hotel ballrooms with a 25 piece orchestra, 1000 black and gold balloons on the ceiling waiting to drop, and ballgowns and tuxedos of swanky and well-groomed people. Classiness, not brassiness. I sorely miss these celebrations, because I have not been with any friends/men who could afford to do this with me, and I'll be darned if I pay for 2 tickets instead of 1.

So back to the story. My sick butt ended up laying in bed watching the Times Square and (more festive) Telemundo countdowns, toasting with some store-bought champagne (Luigi my dog snuck into my glass and got tipsy) and then eventually passed out in restful slumber. Happy New Year everyone.

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