new years eves i have known

I desperately want a babysitter for tomorrow night, but as this is a virtual impossibility I am attempting to resign myself to the fact as such and look forward to a night of causally ringing in the new year among old friends. Which should certainly be the best to hope for.

new years eves i have known:

2006
In the midst of my return to an ostensibly erstwhile anxiety disorder, minicb and I travel an hour north to the town we left in pursuit of graduate school and kindergarten. Our very good friends have a few people over to make won-tons and drink. I have a dark and stormy and roll a delicious stir-fried shrimp mix into nayasoya wonton wrappers. Minicb plays with the boy from the apartment upstairs while his mother fixes me another dark and stormy. The boys decide to dress up as clowns, complete with lipstick on their faces and the grownups get increasingly sauced. People are waxing poetic about the changes in their lives over 2006: weight loss, graduations, new jobs, lovers, transitions. All I can think about is how graduate school was (at the time) ruining my life. Eventually the neighbor and her son retreat upstairs, my friend G is increasingly drunk on red wine, says to her husband, "Can we have a baby?'' "Right now?!" he asks. We forget to countdown to midnight and G falls asleep in a recliner. Bundled under blankets because I am accustomed to free heating, the guys begin watching youtube videos of old World Cup games. In the morning we make british pancakes, which are not to minicb's liking.

2005
I have just finished my undergraduate degree and have a sinus infection; I am suffering from both of these afflictions. We visit the home of the couple in the above paragraph, only they still rented a huge home out in the country. We were making wontons, but this time we made our own dough. Minicb happily makes a mess with the flour. (Looking back at old photos to refresh my memory for this post, I am reminded that he was only three and still had those chubby baby cheeks and a terrible haircut). I am so sick, I had been for weeks and desperately want to go home and sleep but am determined to make it to another gathering. After munching a few wontons, I collect my progeny and head across town to a party of folks from minicb's daycare. These are people I love more than anything. My friend and first doula client is there with her then four month old baby, whom we all pass around. The hosts have made a spread of food and I stuff my face. Maybe I drink some red wine too, I can't really remember but I know I must have been hopped up on cold medicine (back before it was behind the pharmacy counter). Minicb's daycare teacher, truly one of my favorite people in the whole world, is getting drunk, which I love. This woman is the best drunk ever. I fucking love her. I know I will not make it to the new year, so I collect my progeny and go home to nurse my throbbing sinuses.

2004
This year I did have a babysitter and it was hardly worth my money or time. My neighbors graciously offered to share their babysitter with me and so I headed up to the college with some friends to attend a REAL COLLEGE PARTY. This is at a cabin-like home in the woods known as the decker house. We arrive to find what barely constitutes a party. Sitting around on a cold hardwood floor, I have an awkward moment with a classmate as I dismiss the quality of an anthro course in gender diversity we took the previous semester. My friend and I smoke a few cloves out in the freezing night and, having a few drinks in me, I start shouting that we must leave this vapid party as I am literally paying to be there. Finally we collect our sober driver and head back into town. Oddly enough, city-like folks have descended on our quaint little town and are spilling out of the one martini bar. We elect to patronize our old standby brewery, which is virtually empty save for some middle-aged men. We all grab pints. Maybe I spill beer all over the place or maybe that is one of any number of other times I was at this pub. We are desperately bored but elect to wait out the new year. As the giant clock on the west facing wall turns midnight, a few shouts of happy new year are released. Maybe my friends and I kiss each other; we were all queers so it seems likely but I can't really remember. I return home at 12:05 to find that my neighbors sent the babysitter home after the party they went to was a bust. They had just finished ringing in the new year with some pagan circle dancing. I collect my progeny and stumble home to my apartment.

2003
This year I had just finished my first semester back at college as the single mom of a toddler. We lived in a tiny tiny campus apartment literally in the middle of the woods. My neighbor had generously hooked me up with a holiday position busing tables at the ski resort restaurant she waited tables at. After a few nights of busting my ass until 1am making $40 and watching the waitstaff take home $400, I did what was my customary job quitting tactic: I threw a fit and walked out. I was meant to work on new years eve, which was no doubt going to be incredibly packed with apres ski assholes. I was ineffably relieved to not be at that restaurant that night. Minicb and I head a town north for some Chinese food with a friend who anticipated eating mushrooms later that night despite suspecting that she had caught the stomach flu I had introduced to campus. Minicb desperately wanted to try some of the spicy mustard sauce, which I eventually let him do. His face turned bright bright red and he cried in pain for so long that the absent waitstaff finally came to take our order. I dropped off my friend to let her have her night of debauchery, not even jealous, just so happy to not be at that restaurant. I stopped to pick up a bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream and some Queer as Folk dvd's. Midnight passed in my tiny apartment on my tiny couch with the warming liquor and Michael, Brian and Justin. I couldn't have been happier.