This year I hosted a Not-Quite-New Year’s party from 6 to 9 on New Year’s Eve. Vincenzo spent the party yelling at pretty much everyone and everything. We didn’t care because, well…
Now, there were two reasons I threw a not-quite-New-Year’s party from 6 to 9 on New Year’s Eve.
Reason number 1: I had to get rid of this:
The leftover candy from making gingerbread houses for Christmas. I spent the day before New Year’s Eve building gingerbread houses so other people’s kids could load the candy on their houses and walk away with them so that my family could return to its regular diet of flaxseed and wheat germ sprinkled on whole-grain carrots.
This plan somehow failed, as after the kids left not only did I notice the parents had sneakily LEFT the gingerbread houses ALL AROUND my house without taking a SINGLE GUMDROP away, but to make matters worse, somehow THIS happened to the candy.
This would totally suck except for one thing. Fill in the blank and see for yourself: CANDY is to LOAVES OF BREAD AND FISHES as RACHEL is to ____________.
You went there, not me.
Reason number 2 for my Not-Quite-New-Year’s party:
The Evite* clearly stated that at 9:00 the guests were to tuck me and Kevin into bed and quietly leave the house. So why, I ask you, WHY did I end up staying up until midnight, against my deepest wishes?
Because LIFE happened, that’s why. Life.
Here’s how things looked about halfway through Life.
Here’s Kevin. He was a little EXTREMELY DRUNK, so he shouldn’t have been driving, and he certainly shouldn’t have put his wife in the back seat of his car.** That’s his son in the front with him. Or his gay lover. It was a little ambiguous.
Here’s my sister; she just wanted to get her picture taken in front of the Countryside Meadows Retirement Home.
Here’s what Kevin did to my sister.
This is why you shouldn’t drink and drive, people. Because you might accidentally mount her sister and her sister’s wife while your son/gay lover and your own wife look on.
It would be poetic justice if I had won the game despite my slow start that was in no way related to the fact that I chose to go to COLLEGE and get a REAL job instead of working as a SALES CLERK and earning $100,000 a year which—hey, what exactly was it you were selling anyway, you whore?!
But no. I lost.
Damn, I’m to the bottom of my post and I didn’t find a way to work in the part of the party where one of my friends announced, “I’m gonna get me some of those rectal grapes” in the kitchen and it totally made sense.
Well happy New Year anyway.
WHAT’S COOKIN’ 2NITE:
Ham and chicken crepes
*Evite, you now owe me $.50 for promotional fees.
**An hour later, when Kevin was puking ALONE in the bathroom, I like to think he had regrets about leaving his wife in the backseat of his car.