I'd like to submit for jurl consideration that New Year's Eve is the most overrated holiday of all holidays. There's a lot of build up for not much payoff. And the pressure! When you're young and single there is the feeling you have got to do something fabulous or you fail as a human being. But no matter how great the plan, how big the party, or how dapper the date, it's still kind of a let down. Just a night like any other with a lot of drinking and party hats.
I don't think I've ever had a spectacular New Year's Eve. There was the year I got drunk on one giant hurricane so early in the evening I'd already puked by 10:00 p.m. and was ready to go home. Then there was the year I thought it'd be fun to wear fake eyelashes, but when I put them on they were way too long so I trimmed them-while they were still attached to my real eyelashes. This resulted in the great eyelash incident of 93. My eyes were bald for a month.
How about the year I actually had a date who took me to a lame party where he got drunk and accused me of flirting with his best friend? That was fun. And what's the point of popping champagne at midnight? It's freaking midnight. Either you're too drunk to care about the champagne or you never really got started. Does anyone start drinking at midnight?
My best New Year's Eve parties were when I was in elementary. My cousin would spend the night-we would decorate with streamers and balloons, make confetti, and brew lime sherbet punch. The best was drinking the punch out of those plastic champagne glasses. We'd munch on pizza and watch movies until midnight, then we'd turn on Dick Clark's Rocking New Year crap and throw confetti all over the place once the New Year arrived. The next mooring we'd awake to a confetti covered floor we had to clean up, but no hangover so it all worked out.
Now that I'm married it's really lame, but at least there's no pressure to be anything other than lame. This year I resurrected the punch for my daughter and I to share while my husband took 400 pictures of our six month old wearing nothing but a diaper and 2008 sash. I had so much punch I couldn't get down the one glass of wine I'd poured myself. LAME.
On another note, I hate Ryan Seacrest. Can't explain it, but am sad to see he's Dick Clark's successor. Though I really wish Dick Clark would retire because my dark side sparks to life when he talks and find myself on the verge of imitating his warbly speech. I know that's evil, but I'm evil.
I think next year I'll spike my portion of the punch. Happy New Year, Jurls.