Saturday, December 29, 2012

Happy Freakin' New Year

Christmas came and went a few days ago. Now the ramp-up to New Year’s Eve is in full swing. There are commercials on TV featuring stupid 2013 glasses and hats, with really bad actors pretending to party the night away. Pretty lame. I’ve never understood the concept of drinking and partying at the change of the year. Are you saying good-bye to the old year or hello to the new one? I don’t drink liquor, and the last thing on earth I want to do is be around drunk people. Definitely not my idea of a good time. My mom always made us go to bed super early. Therefore, we were in bed hours before the magical dawning of the new year. One year, I was determined to be up at midnight. I smuggled a couple of lids from Mom’s pot and pans and hid them under my pillow. Then I set my alarm for 11:55 PM. When my alarm went off, I took the lids out to the kitchen and banged them together. The noise was jarring. My parents might have already been in bed. I don’t remember. I probably scared the crap out of them though. It was then I formed my opinion of the lameness of New Year’s Eve. Funny hats, liquor, and noisemakers... hmmm. Seriously, I’d like to chat with whoever invented this way of celebrating a milestone (or the end of a milestone... still confused about the whole thing). I just saw a news story about local Seattle police imploring the public not to shoot their guns off at midnight on New Year’s Eve. OK, now we’ve gone off the deep end for real. This is just one more reason... a really, really good reason to stay put on New Year’s Eve. I avoid drunks. Now I have to worry about getting shot by some reveler (who is more-than-likely drunk). Bullets and liquor - a bad combination. I will definitely be safely ensconced in my house on New Year’s Eve. I will celebrate by not celebrating like the rest of the dumbasses out there. I might have a cookie or two and park myself in front of my beloved TV. That way, I can usher out 2012 and usher in 2013 with a minimum of effort. Maybe it won’t be special, but nobody will throw up... or worse. Whoopdee freakin’ doo.

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