Ringin’ in the New Year

After an afternoon wandering around DC, Denise and I headed to Courtney’s house for a homemade, pre-party dinner followed by a collegiate flashback of getting ready to go out with one bathroom and two mirrors!

Denise and I had to pre-plan our outfits and pack before we left our respective homes, and amidst the pre-event e-mailing back and forth RE: what to wear, I related the following information to Courtney on accessorizing for New Year’s Eve:

I have this strand of hammered silver links in differing sizes, with four large, cultured pearls that are a bit funkified. I put it on, and it’s not ‘me’ but it’s actually comfortable and made me feel a little hip — a little less me! So, I’ll try to use this new New Year’s Eve persona to walk out of Funkville and into Funkytown!”

Properly primped and attired, us three lovely ladies bundled up against the cold, bitter wind blowing outside and hopped on the metro to take us into Old Town Alexandria and to a New Years Eve party in a 180-year-old house!

The party was lots of fun, with a good crowd of people… The old house was smack-dab in the middle of renovations, so while there was no ceiling and the walls were crumbling old plaster and wallpaper, the kitchen cabinets, appliances and floor in the kitchen were all brand spankin’ new. Once I stepped back to get out of the way, and I think the back of my head came into contact with a nail! After that, I learned to be more careful. Beer was outside, and gin and tonics were in the living room. A bunch of us hovered in the smaller TV room to watch the ball drop, and we all hollered out the last ten seconds of the countdown.

Once we were safely and happily several minutes into 2009, I noticed that Courtney was a little… unsteady on her feet. I swooped in and got her glass of gin (the party had run out of tonic) swapped out for tap water, got a hunk of bread into her hand, and proceeded to support my dear friend by giving her a left-armed hug that was anchored in one of her belt loops, and keeping my left leg propped up behind her right one so that when her knees buckled, she sort of “sat” on me before regaining her vertical disposition. We made it upstairs (and back downstairs!) once and outside once before a helpful guy carried her into the TV room and she slumped over into my lap muttering slurry thank yous mixed with equal parts apologies.

It became apparent that there was no way we were going to make the last metro home, and she wasn’t going to be able to make a cab ride home, so I stayed with her until her breathing got deep and heavy, and I was able to exchange a pillow for my lap and get her legs tucked up next to her on the couch. I then tagged along with another drunk couple’s cab-calling, which was largely unsuccessful for about an hour. After 3 a.m., the cab-rush slowed down enough that we could get through, and around 3:30 a.m. I was on my way back to Courtney’s to walk her beagle, Daisy, before passing out for a meager 3.5 hours.

It was a good day and a fun night, but my mind was now focused on getting home in time for my Mom’s 61st birthday and fried sourdough bread!