Actually, I take that back. When I was a little kid my parents usually had a big party. I loved that atmosphere. I loved the bottles of booze and mixers lined up on the counter top next to the chrome, penguin-bedecked ice bucket. Just thinking about Mom and Dad's soiree brings back the taste of ham and cream cheese pinwheels. I loved Mom and Dad's parties.
I guess my lackluster New Year's celebrations began in my adult life. At first because we had the responsibility of young children. Later because Hubby was usually in Alaska this time of year. Most recently because our first invitation every year is for a party that I don't enjoy and Hubby always accepts the invitation before remembering that it's really not much fun for me.
I usually make some excuse and stay home. And I always think it's really no big deal because that kind of celebration isn't important to me anyway.
But not this year. This year our friends from Alaska invited us to the local casino. Some of their kids joined us. Some of our kids joined us. And we met up with a whole bunch of other friends. We had a fantastic time.
Before we left the house I was thinking to myself that there was no such drunk as so drunk that I would actually dance in public. Famous last words, much?
Beautiful bought me a shot of something tasty. I've never done a shot before but I was game. That, plus 2-1/2 other drinks (would have been 3 others except that I managed to spill half of one down my pant leg . . . ) caused the dance floor to magically appear beneath my feet. I vividly remember a lot of smiling goofily at my sweet hubby and laughing and having a wonderful time together. I sure hope that's the way he remembers it.
Arriving home at nearly 4 in the morning, I suddenly had an itch to e-mail my NonSon to wish him a happy new year. Because drunk e-mailing (like drunk dialing, blogging and texting) is always a good idea, right?
Here, in part, is my brilliance:
subject: but oh wait! shoot dang . . .
body: What I *meant* to say was nopthing about dancing or drinking like a fish or talking about myself in the thri8d person.
What i meant to say was that my new year's resolution (which I don't believe in making anyway : ) had something to do with not being all u8ncontrollably crazy (WTH is up with the 8s appearing all over the place?????) But then I reflected for a moment and realized that a hormonal woman in her 40's has no control over that. So I'll just be the way I am. And you, and peop[le like you, will put up with me because you love me : )
peace out . . .
And there's my point. That's why we celebrate our birthdays and Valentine's Day and Thanksgiving and New Year's Eve. We do it to remember to take time out to revel in being with the people we love. We're celebrating relationships and the invisible silk threads that bind us all together. We're also celebrating, in the words of my friend Cindy, "waking up breathing." Amen to that, sister!
And on that preachy, didactic note: Happy 2009!