Good Afternoon Darlings,
Ah the New Year. You know, the new year is such a great time of the year. You get to decide what kind of person you want to be for the next year (or at least for the next month or so), join a gym, stock your fridge with organic green vegetables, stop spending money on things like cocktails and costume jewelry, stop reading only the style section of the Times and start reading the actual news, and turn your screens off. And then little by little, your real self comes back and you just have to have those seriously amazing emerald cut rhinestone earrings and a gimlet to celebrate the purchase.
So that’s why I don’t make resolutions. Cause I already work out and eat lots of vegetables, but I also eat a lot of cheese. Honestly, darlings, why would you want to change the beauty of you? If you really wanted to change something, you would have done it in June, yes?
But really the best part of the New Year? An excuse to put sequins on and drink champagne without someone giving you the side eye (not that I care). And have a party and eat caviar and do all the fabulous things that you don’t do the rest of the year (well I do). Oh and you have a reason to make things like this:
And I’ve gotta say, darlings, I have had some pretty amazing New Years celebrations. One year the eve celebration was in fact so good that I woke up and CALLED McDonalds (this particular McDonalds lives in infamy as the site of the ODB arrest) to make sure that they were open and still serving breakfast because God forbid I drove all 3 minutes to find out that they weren’t open. They were. And I got my hash brown fix. Congratulations to me.
And my mother has always thrown the most fabulous New Years day parties. She puts up things that sparkle, lay out buffets of different cigarettes and has a whole ham (which is gross to me, but I applaud her because this is really the only time of the year that she cooks). But the piece de resistance is the giant cocktail glass in the middle of the bar containing my mother’s pre mixed cosmopolitans*. And the whose who of the party is ridiculous. It’s pretty much anyone that I have ever met through my mother in my entire life. Like for 26 years. Most of the people are too fabulous to function. Lots of men in furs.
Anyway in order to get to this fabulous day, you have to go through New Years Eve. And to ring in the New Year, I’d like to share my favourite New Years Eve story with you.
Once upon a time there lived two ladies in their late adolescence. These two ladies had forgone fancy colleges in Boston to attend state school in Philadelphia with the promise that their lifestyle would be subsidized by their parents should they do so (and at 18, a good apartment is much more important than anything else). The two ladies had gone to school together for 8 years, but were mortal enemies until the last month of highschool when they realized that their powers of judgmental sass were better utilized together than against each other. And from that moment of realization, EW & LCF knew that they could never really leave each others lives, their power together was just too great.
So EW&LCF got an apartment and it was amazing. And it was decorated like any apartment housing 2 18 years old should be. Spice World posters, random sequined birds, a chair shaped like a bumblebee, and of course and autographed photo of Peter Gallagher (aka Sandy Cohen aka Brows). But unlike most 18 year olds apartments, EW&LCF had 2 floors, 2 bathrooms, an oven full of rat poop, and an older boyfriend to buy them booze (but who are we kidding? Us city kids knew where to buy booze without the silly necessity of an ID).
So the New Years after we graduated highschool, to ring in 2005, EW&LCF decided to throw a small party. And you know what happens when you decide to throw a small party? It turns into a huge party. See below for proof.
EW and LCF put on their very best NYE outfits, broke out the box of Pink Granache and waited for their friends to show up. And show up they did. If you remember, EW & LCF were mortal enemies with completely different groups of friends in school. And in a class of 90, they each were friendly enough with about half that more or less their entire class showed up…along with stragglers from years above and below….
Buuut LCF doesn’t really remember that part. At 18, LCF had yet to really grasp the elegant drunk and embraced the quick drunk as gospel. So at 9pm after putting back about 2.5 litres (or half a box) of pink wine, LCF was showcasing her ability to match her product of regurgitation to her outfit. In fact, she had a bit of an audience and was explaining to them that, of course her vomit was going to match her silky camisole and “fashion mocassins” (Direct quote, little did she know that such a thing doesn’t exist in life). And to this day, gets questions about the ways in which to ensure matching outfits and regurgitational product. Anyway, after the show was over (about 9:15), LCF retired to her bedroom (whose walls also matched the aforementioned show) and slept through for the next 12 hours.
Little did she know all the debauchery happening downstairs. EW, gracefully taking over all hostess duties, had offered to makeout with every single boy that she hadn’t in highschool. And darlings, EW is spectacular looking – like a less annoying ScarJo. So of course, everyone took her up on her offer and so, she went through the remaining members of not only the soccer and volleyball teams (hey hey hey, our men’s volleyball team was award winning), but those of the Chess and Debate teams as well. The legend goes that all told, EW kissed 31 people that night. And that was quite a scandal.
How do they know that it was 31? Well, a dear friend of EW’s was keeping track on the whiteboard that we kept next to the autographed photo of Sandy Cohen. When asked why, he responded plainly “That’s what friends 0-4.”
SIDE NOTE: EW & LCF graduated from high school in 04. Our teachers would remember our class as one of the most unified that had ever graduated. They often used their class year as a pun for any and everything. But the dear friend’s answer that night was especially sentimental because as a graduating 8th grade class, 4.5 years prior, they had sung the legendary Dionne Warwick’s “That’s What Friends Are For,” in a 105 degree auditorium in front of squeaming and sweating parents and loved ones.
Waking up at the golden hour of 7am on New Years Day, LCF walked downstairs only to find a slew of EW’s crew snuggling on the living room floor in front of a flickering television that she envisioned to be the end of the Spice World VHS, but was actually a bootleg copy of the Tom and Pam sex tape. Which was apparently watched again that morning.
When the crew finally left after a morning of sex tapes and dry bagels, EW and LCF had the daunting task of cleaning the scene of the crime. A few notables that were found include
2 tablets of ecstacy (neither EW nor LCF were ever drug users, so it could have been ibprofen, but they stick to the much more exciting story of the party drug)
an empty bottle of single malt
a white plastic trash can where contents of said bottle had been regurgitated
Confetti from those stupid poppers that was forever stuck to the floors of the kitchen because neither EW nor LCF thought it was really important to go ahead and mop the floors.
So after laughing about all they had found (little did they know they would still be laughing about it 6 years later) over a delicious sushi dinner, they decided that they only way to spend the rest of the day would be to go get tattoos.
Luckily they lived a two minute walk from 7 different tattoo shops. EW decided to get an apple on her wrist to celebrate her love of beloved artist, Fiona Apple. And also because it was the forbidden fruit in the story of Adam and Eve, and since EW is Jewish and SUCH a sex pot, that was a believable reason. It was really for Fiona.
LCF got a Lichtenstein piece (the Kiss V) on her neck. Just because.
As they left, EW&LCF noticed a van and a gaggle of boys on the street. And you know what sassy 18 year old girls do when they see a van and a gaggle of boys? Assume that they are a band and figure out a way to talk to them.
Luckily for EW&LCF, the boys mosied on up and asked the two ladies if they knew where they could find internet. EW&LCF thought that it would be a great idea to invite them to their apartment for internets and beers (LCF’s much older boyfriend was really quite angry when he found out about all of this, which she didn’t quite understand until just now when she realized that two 18 year old girls with autographed pictures of Peter Gallagher in their apartment probably aren’t a fair fight against 6 punk rockers, if they did decide to be mean and/or rude in any way).
Apparently this band, The Flaming Tsunamis, still make music and you can hear it here:
And so the story goes that LCF & EW lived quite the charmed life after that in their little 2 bathroom, 2 level apartment. Legend has it that they took a Poli Sci class together with a teacher who used to hoist his foot onto the desk in the middle of the lecture making sort of a 90 degree angle with his tweed clad leg. This professor didn’t seem to like them too much when they often times left in the middle of class for a “meeting with a landlord,” otherwise known as dinner at the diner. That professor didn’t mind them so much when they both still somehow left his class with 4.0′s.
So anyway darlings
Wake up, please. How Rude.
Darlings, I hope you enjoy your New Years as much as these two creatures of legend once did.
Oh and don’t forget to stock up on the smoked fish and carbohydrates for tomorrow morning.
I’ll see you in 2013.