New Years Eve. As one can imagine, I dislike the whole New Years going out thing that people do. Typically, I like to spend New Years Eve hunkered down on the forest compound with Paulo, a 26er of whiskey rye, some shotguns and celebrate like it's the dawn of the new millennium and everything is about to go to shit.
|LOVE Rick Grimes! Totally ready for NYE shit to go down!|
Sigh…but alas, not this year. Oh no. This year it was different. Let me explain, in painstaking detail, how it was different from previous New Years Eves of my past.
First off, Paulo was MIA. Last reported sighting was the back alley of a Northern Canadian biker bar gambling and slamming back shots with the wait staff. Clearly spending New Years with Paulo at the compound was out.
Second, in a totally unexpected turn of events, I announced several weeks in advance that I would be attending a party for New Years Eve. And in total not unexpected fashion I changed my mind on whether or not I would attend at least 20 times before attending said event, during which my Facebook invite status remained untouched and left in the “yes, I’m going to attend this social gathering with real humans” position.
Third, I was anxious getting ready for the social event. Although technically me being anxious before a social event is not different, the fact that I handled my anxiety with good humour and acceptance is different. In the past I would just beat myself up about being anxious for no good reason, which of course would make me even more anxious about not being able to live up to the ridiculously high standards I have set for myself. Yes, the past was a vicious cycle of anxiety for me, dulled only by the sweet lovely nectar of some backwoods whisky rye blend…sigh, those days are long gone.
Fourth, my father called to wish me a happy New Year and Fifth at 7pm. Let me break it down.
Fourth, my father never calls anyone. In fact I wasn’t even sure he had a phone on account of him owning all those carrier pigeons. That being said, the conversation with my father was no different.
Basically our conversations follow a predictable trajectory: he asks me what I’m up to, I debrief him, my news is either completely ridiculous/unexpected/inappropriate, he asks clarifying questions, he burst into laughter, he quickly ends the conversation and does something more solitary, like read a book. Yes, I have inherited my awkwardness from my father. Anyways, in this particular instance, my part of the conversation fell under the category of unexpected. So naturally, my father rapid fired these questions at me:
You’re going out?!
Out to a party?!
With other people?!?!
Yes, it was a shock for him as it was for many others too, see points 2 and 3 above.
Fifth, 7pm. Now why is this different? Because well, that is around the time I start getting ready for bed these days, not start getting ready to go out. Yes, I am training for an ultra marathon, so I need lots of sleep these days. But for some reason I was going to make NYE an exception to my curfew as if NYE actually meant something to me. Which it does not. So that is why it’s different.
Now that you’ve digested that, you are going to turn around and say: “Well Andrea, that is quite the super awesome list of all the differences but really you are still you, so how was it the same?”
And I will reply: “True, that was a super awesome list wasn’t it?! As for the answer to your question, why yes, yes there were many similarities, most notably the following:
One, I looked smoking hot (as always),
Two, I told inappropriate stories to people I had just met (a favourite was how me eating my own cold sore scab was a sign that I’m in a calorie deficit due to my ultra marathon training), and of course
Three, I kept my expectations so low that bathing in a tub of steaming dog shit seemed more likely to produce a fun filled evening for me than me leaving the house.
Turns out I had a good night. True story. Yes, me being my awesome self while doing something outside my comfort zone produced pleasurable results. But please keep in mind that I did have a really great night, ON THIS PARTICULAR OCCASION. This is just one occasion, not several, this is not a trend, this is an anomaly.
That's right, this blog post is not an example of how I’m now going to always go outside my comfort zone because good things can happen to me.
And no, this is not an example of why you should go try new things because good things will happen to you. Sure they might but more likely you will try something new and something undesirable will happen to you ( like you being vomited on while having sex) and then you will blame me. And although blaming me is a favourite pastime for many people…actually you know what, go do what you want and blame me, it’s all good because I just think it’s super hilarious you got vomited on during sex. Ha!
Happy New Year! Hope your 2015 if full of many fun vomit free adventures! And yes, I will be chronicling my adventures in my blog to share with you my lovely devoted readers; however, my tales will likely include more vomit than sex (just saying) but good fun nonetheless.
Oh the black shiny tights, I almost forgot. Well I really wanted to wear my black shiny tights out for New Years Eve and I couldn’t find them. So I tore apart my entire room and walk in closet for over an hour searching for the black shiny tights. After searching the same spots 3 times and not finding the black shiny tights (OCD much?!), I gave in and looked in the spot I had been avoiding for the last hour. And naturally, the black shiny tights were there. They were like the second piece of clothing in the pile. It is actually kind of remarkable I didn’t notice them earlier as they are so shiny and all. Anyways, so after all of that I tried them on and decided I wasn’t going to wear them. So yeah, that was the part about the black shiny tights.
|What I would have liked to do on NYE: watch Rick Grimes bite people!|