Since I spent my New Year's Eve at home last night, I was so happy to be surrounded by good friends, food, and safety. Safety being the key word. And while I stuffed my face with all kinds of goodies (sigh...resolutions, resolutions) I couldn't help but think of some past New Years Eve celebrations, and how they were less celebrations and more, umm...misadventures.
New Years Eve 1994: At fourteen years old I thought I was the coolest girl around having NYE plans with my older sister and her friends. My sister being a bad influence the coolest sister around, I knew that some of those Bacardi Wine Coolers were for me. I had my eye on the the purple one. If you scrunched up your face enough each time you took a sip, you could pretend it tasted like grape Kool-Aid.
Anyway, we made all these plans with friends, which included an intense search for a credit card so we could secure a hotel room. That night. Yeah it didn't work. So that was out. And then our friends started acting weird and told us to go home, and they would call us when they found something fun to do. Ha. Do you know where this is going? That's right, they ditched us. They went and had a fun New Years Eve and neglected to call us. Can you even imagine??
New Years Eve 1996: Sixteen and I was spending the night with my best friend Ciara. We were going to a party at her friends house. Keep in mind that I was a very paranoid 16-year-old girl (must have been all that weed) and I didn't do well in social situations. Not much has changed except that I no longer smoke the weed. Maybe it would do the opposite for me as an adult?
So this party found me so uptight that I barely spoke to anyone all night, and instead drowned my little emo sorrows in a huge bottle of Southern Comfort. Which I convinced myself tasted like liquid Skittles. The change of the year found me in the same spot: not any further ahead in the friends game. Maybe I shouldn't have laughed out loud at the poor girl who started puking everywhere, and who kept farting gigantic drunken farts with each heave. Bad Katherine! But you know everyone else was laughing on the inside.
New Years Eve 2002: I was twenty-two and had the best night planned EVER. My sister, my friend John, and another girl all rented a fancy hotel room in a university town. We also bought tickets to go and see a much loved musician play an intimate show that night. Champagne was included in the purchase of the ticket, need I say more? I had to work until the early afternoon that day, and since I had to get up at 4:30 that morning I figured I would have a little snoozefest before we left for the hotel. No such luck. We began our adventure and there was no time to catch a power nap any time after that. We took a cab to the show, and the plan was to take one back to the hotel after midnight when the show was over. So, some of us didn't wear our winter jackets. And it being Canada, and winter, it was -35 degrees Celsius that night. Bitterly cold.
Once the show was over, there were fist fights breaking out all over the place. What for, you ask? For cabs, since there was a shortage thereof. Sigh. We waited and waited and finally called a taxi company who told us it would be a two hour wait. At this point all the clubs were closed, and I am two hours shy of being awake for 24 hours. And I am slowly congealing into a big blob of gelatinous baby goo.
So we begin to walk. The hour and a half long walk back to our hotel. Lord it was cold. Very cold. My thighs were burning from it, and it was tricking me into thinking I had peed myself, because I couldn't feel anything except the burning sensation. Our lovely walk was good for one thing; we were able to witness the crazy chaos that the town had gotten itself into that night. Accidents everywhere, people fighting all over the place, bus shelter glass smashed all over the sidewalk. It got so bad at one point that I asked a policewoman if she could drive us just up the road to our hotel. She looked at me and asked me if I thought she looked like a taxi cab. While eating a donut. I am not kidding. I was pulled away by my friend but only after I had asked her if she was aware that her job was to serve and protect. SERVE AND PROTECT!
We finally made it back at 4:30 in the morning. Finally I was able to go to sleep a full twenty four hours after the last time I woke up. If only I could control my shivering once I finally fell into bed.
New Years Eve 2005: Twenty-five years old and living with one of my best friends in the big city. A very naive girl was I. We decided to go and see a friends' band play that night, you know, low key. Uh huh. Uninvited drunken guests found Jess and I hiding out in our kitchen, literally clutching each other for fear of exploding from the deep, voluminous drunk conversation going on in the next room. So much for low key.
At the bar, I found myself needing to use the ladies. Little did I know that waiting for me was a drunken loser who thought it was funny to corner a lone girl in a bathroom stall and say disgusting things to her. I told him to get away from me and locked the stall door. He said he would wait for me to come out, he had all the time in the world. My naivety? A little less prevalent. I figured I could stay in the stall and cower, or I could face the douche bag and tell him where to go. I took a deep breath, opened the door, and let him have it. One for the record books. Thankfully he backed off, but that pretty much ruined the night for me. I went home and locked my door. Twice.
So you can see why I mostly choose to stay in the comfort of my own home. The only thing that New Years Eve celebrations have taught me is that all I need is a warm spot, my beloved friends, and a bottle of wine to sooth me of all the horrid memories of NYE past. And sparklers are fun to.
Maybe 2010 will see me attending a rager? Wouldn't THAT be something to see? I probably would still laugh a little at the drunk girl barfing everywhere though. But only if she was farting out a little musical number with each spew. No, no, I take it back. THAT would be something to see!
