mrs-roboto's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The First Entry of 2003 News Years Eve was spent with my fabulous husband Pete, and our friends Judy and Jiri (in case I haven't mentioned it lately, Judy and Jiri are the best neighbors a person could have and I am so thankful they moved into the house behind us and that we got to know them). Lobsters were steamed, shelled, and consumed with drawn butter. Red wine was poured and drank in decent quantities but not so much as to cause painful hangovers for the first day of the New Year. And at ten to midnight, we crawled up on top of the roof of our house and watched the fireworks show at the Space Needle (note to self: next year you can really wait till about three minutes before 12:00 to climb up on top of the house - your house is one story tall and it doesn't take long to reach the highest peak of your majestic castle plus you'll avoid sitting in the rain for any more time than necessary). At some point, probably around 1:00 A.M., we started discussing our most memorable New Years Eves. New Years Eve has never been a particularly important event for me. Sure, there were plenty of parties, and drunken smooches at the stroke of midnight followed by lots of vomiting. Good times. I remember one New Years Eve in Boston (they call it First Night) riding the T (which is free on First Night) with some friends. Boston, in case there was any question, is filled to the brim with drunk frat boys at all times of the year but on December 31st, I swear they start importing them from other states. Seriously, I think every moron from the University of New Hampshire heads on over to ride the free mass transit - thrills abound. So, here I am heading home in the 15 degree weather sometime after midnight (but not too much after midnight as the T stops around 1:30 PM - and then the stupid local legislators wonder why so many people drive drunk) when a group of Pi Alpha Asshole boys board the B train to Allston and begin picking fights with every single person on the trolley. They pushed an old man and knocked over a small child. They shouted obscenities and tried to feel up innocent female commuters. Two of the kids I was traveling with immediately took offense to this behavior and a brawl ensued. Cops were called, my friends were hauled off to the pokey, the frat boys were set free, and I got to post bail at 7:00 AM on New Years Day. That was fun. Then there was the time I was in New York at some small bar and it got raided. The cops were looking for minors with fake ID's. I was a minor with a fake ID. Mission accomplished, my cherished police officers. I was driven home to my parents in a squad car before midnight. As you can imagine, my parents and I had a rocking good time when the ball dropped. Oh and then there was the year I got sick in a cab on the way back home from a party and the driver pulled over and forced me out of his vehicle while shouting "you are a drunk, you no get sick in my cab! I kill you with two finger! You hear me?" I tried to explain that I hadn't been drinking. I had food poisoning! The cabby, who was somewhat less than sympathetic, actually left me on the side of the road, throwing up, and unable to hail another taxi. I eventually stumbled down to a subway station (where everybody else was puking so I blended right in) and made my way home on the train. So yes, this was a good year. No law enforcement, no puke, a Tarimisu dessert that was simply to die for, champagne on the roof of my home, and a sweet kiss from the love of my life as the clock struck twelve. It doesn't really get an better. New Years Resolutions:
10:59 a.m. - 2003-01-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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