Ugh. That is my exact sentiment on the whole New Years Eve thing. It is also my sentiment on the whole New Year day thing, when I can't stop eating junk to ease the hangover and I'm starting to worry that the multiple rat nests in my hair just might be permanent. Just, ugh.
I have a love hate relationship with the whole holiday. Sure, it's usually a good time and I get to wear something fancy, but does that make up for all the stress I have trying to make plans for the night. Not really. Oh, the pressure!
After much debate of my limited options, I finally decided to go out with the Karaoke Kid and friends. (Quick refresher: I briefly dated KK in the spring until one night, I secretly started seeing his roommate instead. KK never found out about that short-lived affair and we're still friends). I hadn't seen him in a long time but those guys are always a good drunken time and they were planning on wearing suits and top hats. Drankin' and fancy dressin' are the two things I want on my New Years Eve. I was sold.
After much primping (a slammin' little black dress, curls, hair flair, and red lipstick) I make it over to KK's apartment. The last time I was at that apartment I was there with The Roommate, but that was six months ago. The last time I had seen the both of them, KK was awkward and The Roommate tried hard to give me the cold shoulder, but that was five months ago. Things would be fine I was sure, and they were. Even when their other friends went to a house party, leaving me with the Karaoke Kid and The Roommate, alone. Let the heavy drinking begin, because really, how did I not see this coming?
The three of us made it out to a bar and I desperately hoped that we'd be able to meet up with one of my friends from work (her and her friends were one of my other options) but they unfortunately weren't in our area. So there we were, the three of us ringing in the New Year, toasting with a huge shot that completely kicked my ass. I immediately followed this by dancing to Lady Gaga, while still sitting on my bar stool. I actually did have quite a good time, just like we used to have good drunken times. KK was his normal self and The Roommate was back to his usual flirtatious meanness that got me into trouble with him in the first place. Cue the "uh oh". At the end of the night, while the Karaoke Kid went outside to smoke, I became adamant on finishing my water and also very adamant on making out with The Roommate. I'm not really sure how that happened, I'd like to blame him, but let's be honest, I probably instigated it (if there is one thing I can pride myself in, it's instigating poor drunken decisions). Making out in a bar is classy, don't even try to tell me it's not.
I, of course, meant to go home alone that night to avoid any weird situations. But the Roommate was secretly holding my hand when the Karaoke Kid wasn't looking, as we stumbled back to their place. We were waiting for KK to pass out, but he had an odd amount of energy going, and was basically dancing and playing music in his room. The Roommate went to his own room. I sat down on his bed. He still had the same surfboard sheets. I asked him if he's washed them since, he said he had. Then he closed his door. The music stopped shortly thereafter.
This morning I bid The Roommate adieu, wished him luck with the Karaoke Kid, and told him he could call me if he wanted though I suspected he wouldn't. I don't know what KK thought happened, maybe he told him I just passed out. Maybe he didn't. Wow, I'm good at fucking things up with them. I'm also good at sneaking out of their apartment. I did my very long walk of shame in last night's dress and very scary hair. An old man I passed shook his head at me. Even his dog gave me a disapproving look. 2011 is looking surprisingly similar to 2010. Maybe one of my resolutions should have been to stop doing stupid shit when I'm drunk. But if I did that, what would I blog about??
Happy 2011!
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