January 01, 2005
The feeling you get, after waking up at an unusually late hour of the day, not remembering the entirety of the evening before, and finding yourself dressed in clothing you did not know you owned in the first place, always produces an obscure sense of guilt in me. It is the mere definition of crossing that proverbial line of alcoholic over indulgence, suffused with the troubling belief that you will be remembered for something you'd rather not be remembered for in the weeks to come and having it all slowly dribble back into your mind as the day ventures forth.This feeling is only acclimated when its occurence lies on the day before New Years Eve.
As I roved out yesterday around 3:00 p.m., I noted the streets filled with more people than were present on Christmas Eve. The weather was unseasonably warm and I counted 21 motorcycles as I embarked on an hour drive out to my parents' home on the Lake. If not for the consistent tambour behind my sun assaulted eyes, this would have been a most pleasant sight, but alas, I was still in no condition to be anything but irratibly and undeniably hung over. A relaxing New Years was most definitely in order; if not simply for the lack of cash flow, than most certainly for the lack of hydration in my system.
We laid out all the snacks on the living room table; chips and dip, two kinds of herring, tiger meat, cavier, assorted cheese spreads and slices, smoked salmon and something called 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Chinese ribs (much too complicated for me - the process of eating ribs as well as the name) and gorged ourselves the whole night through. I had one Bloody Mary to mark my bravery in the consumption of alcholic beverages, seeking solice in dog hair, and about two gallons worth of water.
My mother and I happily finished off our customary crossword puzzle with the occasional help of my father who was reading the Journal Sentinel in his favorite arm chair. The neighbors set off fireworks as we watched The Hound of The Baskervilles (or basketballs, as my father calls it). I peered through a set of binoculars to view the brightly lit 'Gatsby House' across the Lake, imagining a parade of well garbed people passing through the grand French doors to the spacious, wide windowed livingroom to dance and the champagne chilled in the fridge while we quietly enjoyed the festivities of the day.
In an attempt to remain awake, in order to ring in the New Year, we began viewing another DVD - Das Boot. I fell asleep on the couch about an hour and a half into the five hour film. My mother nudged me after she cleared away all of the snacks from the table and I sleepily crawled into the bed not 15 minutes before midnight. I shall regard myself a loser for having bypassed my first New Year, thank you very much, althouth I must admit that I was somewhat attuned to the goings on around me.
I heard the climaxing pop of fireworks and the faint shouts of "Happy New Year!" as I drifted off to sleep. I heard the footfalls of my parents who had successfully welcomed 2005 to their doors and the faint jazzy tune of my cell phone an hour or two later when someone graciously thought of me during their own celebrations. It was not the most preferred way to cross that line of old into new, but I was at least moderately concious of the fantastic parade outside my bedroom door.
This morning I rose to the after effects of those who had partied well into the night. I was awake before my parents, who had dared to grip this New Year with both hands unlike any year prior. I heard the wild, stentorian voices of those who had, perhaps, missed me during their great enterprises from the messages left on my phone. I saw the world around me, quiet and well deserving of such languid repose and I laughed knowing they would surely be roused, late in the morning or afternoon, just as I was the day before.
If, in their wakeful states, they should find themselves clad in another's clothing, bearing the marks of promiscuously placed lipstick and calling their coherts with foggy memories for more information on the evening's events, I shall not be completely remiss in having missed my first New Year. Still, there is a sense of guilt in knowing I was passed out before the big bang.
I'll just chalk it up to my propensity for bad timing and wish ya'll the slightest of hangovers and nothing but the best for 2005.