A night to remember...sort of
Two years ago today, I was in my house, minding my own business, when my friend called me up and invited me to his New Year's party. I'd already been invited once, but I was feeling sick and didn't really want to be around people, so I'd turned him down. The second time he asked me, though, I was getting kind of bored, so I said, "Hey, why not."I went to the party and enjoyed myself, and got amazingly drunk in the first half hour of 2002. Later, a casual friend of mine ended up groping me in full view of everybody else, which I have only the haziest memory of. I find it funny, only because he was even drunker than I was and because nothing really happened, but he still apologizes profusely over the whole thing. Anyway, this year I'm going to a party with much the same crowd, and my only goals are to 1) avoid the mistletoe that will be all around the loft 2) avoid getting completely drunk and 3) be sober enough to laugh my ass off at everyone else.
Happy New Year, all.
Be safe.
If anyone's in Manhattan and has nothing to do, come to the loft over the Fat Black Pussy Cat bar, located at 130 W. 3 St. There's a $50 cover (yeah, I know), but it's worth it. Ask for Nicole (and don't mention this blog)!
