Happy New Year and all that

To be honest, New Year's Eve was a bit of a letdown. We turned down PhotoGirl's invitation to a poker night since we'd already accepted an invitation to another party (yes, we fancied ourselves quite popular, for about 5 minutes), and last year's party-hopping had been a little too frantic for our tastes. This year we lost our designated driver, thanks to snowstorms in Albuquerque which caused a re-strategizing (a revised strategery, if you will) of the night ahead. Monk's bold idea was to "play it by ear. We'll stop drinking at midnight and then we'll be good to go by 2 or so." I had a couple of objections to this plan: 1) "play it by ear?" Texas is not the state in which you want to risk a DWI. If you're one of those idiots that drinks and drives in the first place. Which I am not. Anymore. 2) "by 2 or so?" How young do you think I am, sir? Gone are the days when staying out past 3 in the morning was a cakewalk. And without a drink in my hand, it's safe to say I'd be ready to leave shortly after midnight.

And no, I don't think I have much of a problem.
After a full day at the massage clinic Sunday, I came home to an equally-exhausted Monk. We dragged our asses through a meal, a shower, and the drive over to the party's location. Monk was proudly wearing a new once-a-year shirt. What's a once-a-year shirt, you ask? It has become a New Year's Eve tradition for Monk to wear the one t-shirt in his wardrobe that, on any other day of the year, I refuse to stand next to in public. I'm not normally the type of person who tells her spouse what he should and should not wear. Ripped? Whatever. Crude humor? More fun for everyone. So old it's practically transparent? Hey, they're not my nipples poking through. But this:

is where I draw the line. That, my friends, was the shirt that created the once-a-year shirt category, and Monk wore it with great enthusiasm on last New Year's Eve.

You'd think he wouldn't be able to top that, and maybe he shouldn't try. Maybe he shouldn't go out and spend money on more wince-inducing prints. You'd think he'd be happy enough with the infamous horse shirt. You'd think wrong:

Can't wait to see what he finds for next year.

In terms of making fun of people's crazy, drunken resolutions from last year, I don't have much to offer. Some were mildly entertaining, some were tragic, but most were downright boring (what's up with setting reasonable goals, people?).

Speaking of boring, most of the revelers were related to the hosts. In fact, it is safe to say that 3/4 of the guests were the parents of the host and hostess. And, with the exception of Monk, Clod, Host and Host's Cousin leaving to shoot fireworks off in a field (then in front of some houses, under a streetlamp, and into a port-o-potty), they were all quite happy to sit and play cards for hours.

I had instructed Monk earlier in the day that this year we'd be more proactive with our camera at the party (this is when we still thought the party would get wild), since last year we came home with only a handful of very tame photos, plus some horrific self-portraits (people need to tell me when my hair is making a Nike swoosh on my forehead, dammit). Monk tried to get busy with the camera as the evening wore on, but... Let's just say he is not the best of photographers, even without the vodka tonics and a penchant for turning the flash off.

After ringing in the New Year, three calls to Skyhawk in Albuquerque (11pm: Happy New Year! Oops, sorry, got the time difference wrong! 12am: Okay, Happy New Year for real! Oh, I know, but it's midnight for us. 1am: Happy New Year for you, now! Me, 2 minutes after 1am: Damn, Monk, quit calling your boyfriend.) and nearly 2 hours of watching people play cards, we decided to call it a night, having captured most of the merriment already, vague and fuzzy though it might have been.

Maybe next year we'll make some more friends (to bring us up to... 7 seems like a good number) and try our hand at hosting the party, or perhaps we'll ring in 2008 on a beach somewhere warm and quiet. For now though, I'm looking forward to 2007- a few classes, more travel (we hope), major home improvement, and a new...areercay (how smooth am I?).

And how does your 2007 look so far?

5 comment:

Anonymous skyhawk said...

Ah yes, having someone's husband drunk dial... a guy... three times in the course of two hours is, truly, fun for all. And makes for some entertaining explanations when said guy is staying at his parents'.

J/K... Sorry I couldn't ring in the New Year with you... a break in three years of tradition! Damn snow...

And you should TOTALLY host next year's party... have you guys cleaned the hot tub from the last time?

12:36 PM  
Blogger Kelley said...

Ha! Those t-shirts are awesome. I mean awful. Awesomely awful. My husband would love this tradition, as over the years I've managed to throw away his worst shirts. When he married me, he knew I would be enforcing the dress code.

3:29 PM  
Blogger Becky said...

My husband would like that tradition as well, except his would be more in the "should never be worn in public" category. Like the "Japanese garden" shirt (think Seinfeld, ruffly) and the "people hunting deer" shirt (think shades of brown with little men wearing orange vests and deer in various states of deadness).

Both of these shirts have found their way to a "special place" (not in our house), so I guess he'd have to find another awful shirt to wear.

Maybe the too short, bright green "skiing" sweatshirt he has, where the seam has started running across the front of the belly instead of along the sides.

Oh yea.

Btw, your New Year's beat mine. We celebrated at 9 pm with sparkling grape juice then went to bed, where we argued until 2 am. WOO!

5:00 PM  
Blogger Lisa said...

The horse shirt is hysterical.

Hope your 2007 is a fun, happy, prosperous and healthy year for you both.

Oh and our new year's eve? My hubby got pissy, went to bed at 9:30 p.m. Since the boy had a nap, I let him stay up for as long as he could. He ushered in the new year. We clincked our orange juice. And then he went to bed. Yeah, really wild and crazy!

9:17 AM  
Blogger Becky said...

BTW, "strategery" is too freakin' funny. We use that word ALL THE TIME in our house. We also say "United States of Merica."

9:43 AM  

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