Not Your New Year’s Eve Post

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December 31, 2011 by Manny Wordsmith

So you’re planning on heading out night for some kind of wild partying.

Some of you are just heading to a local bar, somewhere around the corner, ear distance from the sound of your own children. You thought about heading to a bigger venue, but you remembered the times before and how crazy things were. You’re older now so you know it’s ok to party like a conservative. You’ll leave you’re 3 children in the care of the neighbors kid, who you really don’t trust. You can’t put you’re finger on it, but you think you smell the faint scent of cannabis every time she comes over to borrow duct tape. The whole gang will be at the bar. Your co-workers, your neighbors, your ex’s. The festivities will include Maud’s famous pot roast and potato buffet, along with Mr. Changs Chinese Champagne at midnight. Carl from down the street will be there with his biker friends, hogging the jukebox for most of the night. They’ll play all the hits from 78′, and every Greatful Dead song they can find. Ashley, the notoriously lascivious waitress, will be there, looking her best, acting as the party’s Bettie Page, schmoozing the old men and pissing off the ladies. She’ll be wearing the most ridiculously tight black dress that you’ve ever seen. And you, along with your significant other and everyone else in the bar, will never believe she’s 63 with 5 kids. Classics never  get old.

Midnight will come and you’ll kiss your love. You’ll have some shots, jam to “Red Solo Cup” or something from the Jackson 5. You’ll have a mediocre time and be in bed before the cops begin to lurk the streets. Congrats to giving in.

Then some of you are heading to a club or gala event. Something over-the-top, expensive, maybe even exclusive. You’ve worked your ass off all year, probably studying a subject that you hate, or working for a prick boss that under-appreciates you. And because of this, you’ve finally decided to give yourself the opportunity to go all out and get wild. You’ll leave your younger siblings or relatives at home and angry at the fact that they can’t go party with you, even though you both spilt a fifth of pomegranate Burnett’s last week. The limo bus will stroll to the front of your home and you’ll climb in to hear 15 of your bestest friends, who are already drunk, screaming your name. You’ll take pictures holding bottles of liquor you can never afford and you’ll hi-five more in the first 15 minutes of the ride than you have all year. Everyone will be dressed like their heading to the Oscars, and you’ll look no different. People who you never thought could clean up on their best day, are suddenly sexy and stunning, posting things like, “Anything can happen tonight!” and “I can’t wait for a midnight kiss!” on their Facebook pages. The event will be an over-hyped display of everything the world hates about America. Beautiful people, super DJ’s that listen to themselves DJ when their not DJing, premium drinks no one knows how to pronounce correctly and a Top Chef buffet filled with exotic foods that you’ll lie about eating in some made-up story about a trip to Tokyo in 05′. You’ll dance all night, shoes will be off by 11:30 and that person, who you’ve wanted to kiss all year, will be right next to you when Ryan Seacrest begins the countdown. You’ll make magic and party senseless for the 4 hours afterwards, till you climb back into the Limo and into the arms of the person you shared that kiss with. Congrats, you lived.

I’m not sure which one any of you will be tonight, or if your already out and unable to read this. Just know that when your old, all you have is your memories. Nothing great ever happened when people played it safe. If your year was shit. Do yourself a favor…go all out. Even if that means you get drunk, call Ashley the Waitress a whore and take over the jukebox and force everyone to get up with you to do the Cupid Shuffle. Take chances, make mistakes, get messy. Ms. Frizzle couldn’t have been more right.


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