New New Year’s Eve, Same Old Shit (#207)

366 days ago, I thought, “Next year, for sure, we’re going to do something fun on New Year’s Eve. We’ll go dancing, at least!”

2017 had other plans. Andy ruptured his quadriceps tendon in September. Yesterday he was finally cleared to jettison his brace, but it’ll be months before he can walk normally. Dancing? Out of the question.

Going to a party? Forget it unless they have a recliner and some ice.

Having a party? We did that on Christmas Eve. Andy had to go lie down in the middle of the party. I still haven’t finished returning the house and yard to their normal state.

Once again, my big plans will be walking dogs and envying the shiny, fabulous people driving off to parties. Then I will remember that my envy is based on heaps of false advertising by companies that distribute alcohol. The reality is a lot of obnoxious drunk people and vomit.

Besides, everyone on social media will remind me that most of us are at home with our pets anyway. Bring on the photos of dogs in 2018 glasses and party hats! Bring on a 9:30 PM bedtime!

Remember your earplugs, because your neighbors probably have illegal fireworks.

Before 9:30 PM, though, I’ll remember how very fortunate and privileged I am, because my husband’s injury was minor. He’ll make a full recovery. Our family members are in good health. My grandmother is going to be 98 in 2018!

It’s not all roses, though. We’re going to be thoroughly screwed on our taxes in April, thanks to the “Only Billionaires Get Breaks” Tax Bill. Yet we will endure until the November elections give us something to smile about again.

And next December 31st, damn it, we’re going dancing.

Here are my musings on staying home from NYE 2016. Enjoy!

 

 

What Are You Doing, New Year’s Eve? (#165)

Tonight, as I walked in the rain (with the dog, not Andy, don’t go thinking it was all romantic and shit), I thought about New Year’s Eve. It’s supposed to be a big party, right? Champagne, dancing, party dresses, sparklers, kisses?

That’s what movies say. That’s what TV says. Hell, that’s what my Instagram feed looks like, anyway.

But is it? Continue reading What Are You Doing, New Year’s Eve? (#165)