happy new year's, everyone!

With a few minor plot twists, the last night of the year went pretty well. There were only five of us at the vigil, and everyone was pretty wretchedly depressed. We grabbed dinner, headed down to McVeigh's, and proceeded to get supremely wasted on $3.75 Guinness pints. I was with a somewhat different contingent of folks than I expected, but my requirements for a great New Year's were fulfilled: I was surrounded by friends and drunk enough to not reflect too hard upon the failures and disappointments of the past year.

11:55 found me up by the stage with a gaggle of rowdies, pint in the air, having a sing-a-long to "Fields of Athenrye". I think I might have been dancing. Fortunately, my tendency to embarrass myself was completely overshadowed by S. drunkenly hitting on anything with a pulse. McVeigh's got a special dispensation to serve drinks until 3, and after that we staggered around the club district, making unfortunate remarks about the Ayatollah Khomeini and trying to get to Chinatown. (For you non-Hogtowners: Getting to Chinatown from Queen East is pretty easy when you're sober. When you're trying to control six drunks while navigating crowds of young urban bourgeoisie spilling into the streets, it's significantly harder to manage.)

I guess we found a restaurant that was open at 4 AM, because my tongue is all burnt and I have a vague memory of live crabs scuttling around. Oh, and D.'s fortune cookie being about how "the first and last love is self-love". He concluded that he was doomed for the rest of the year. I made it home at about 5 and promptly passed out with the kitty.

The evening in numbers:

Number of boys: 7
Number of girls: 1 (me)
Number of times I insisted that I was going home alone no matter what because the only man I needed was my kitty: Too many to count
Pints consumed: 6
Number of times I confused D.'s gross Guinness/whisky mix with my own pint and accidentally drank it: 2
Glasses smashed due to overly enthusiastic response to the music: 1
Arrests witnessed: 0.5 (it was related to me a few minutes after the fact; I saw the cop cars but not the arrest itself)
Bizarre and/or amusing secrets revealed through excessive drinking: at least 3

May this year be better than the last.

happy new year's, everyone!

With a few minor plot twists, the last night of the year went pretty well. There were only five of us at the vigil, and everyone was pretty wretchedly depressed. We grabbed dinner, headed down to McVeigh's, and proceeded to get supremely wasted on $3.75 Guinness pints. I was with a somewhat different contingent of folks than I expected, but my requirements for a great New Year's were fulfilled: I was surrounded by friends and drunk enough to not reflect too hard upon the failures and disappointments of the past year.

11:55 found me up by the stage with a gaggle of rowdies, pint in the air, having a sing-a-long to "Fields of Athenrye". I think I might have been dancing. Fortunately, my tendency to embarrass myself was completely overshadowed by S. drunkenly hitting on anything with a pulse. McVeigh's got a special dispensation to serve drinks until 3, and after that we staggered around the club district, making unfortunate remarks about the Ayatollah Khomeini and trying to get to Chinatown. (For you non-Hogtowners: Getting to Chinatown from Queen East is pretty easy when you're sober. When you're trying to control six drunks while navigating crowds of young urban bourgeoisie spilling into the streets, it's significantly harder to manage.)

I guess we found a restaurant that was open at 4 AM, because my tongue is all burnt and I have a vague memory of live crabs scuttling around. Oh, and D.'s fortune cookie being about how "the first and last love is self-love". He concluded that he was doomed for the rest of the year. I made it home at about 5 and promptly passed out with the kitty.

The evening in numbers:

Number of boys: 7
Number of girls: 1 (me)
Number of times I insisted that I was going home alone no matter what because the only man I needed was my kitty: Too many to count
Pints consumed: 6
Number of times I confused D.'s gross Guinness/whisky mix with my own pint and accidentally drank it: 2
Glasses smashed due to overly enthusiastic response to the music: 1
Arrests witnessed: 0.5 (it was related to me a few minutes after the fact; I saw the cop cars but not the arrest itself)
Bizarre and/or amusing secrets revealed through excessive drinking: at least 3

May this year be better than the last.