New Years Eve

Daily Post prompt: Where were you last night when 2012 turned into 2013? Is that where you’d wanted to be?


I had three parties I was invited to last night and I didn’t want to go to any of them. Male was having health issues and we thought he might have to go to the hospital earlier in the day. I figured that a potential hospital visit was enough of a pass to not have to go out. Plus, in the afternoon, I was over at a friend’s house with my dog. He has two tiny dogs that, even together, are barely 40% of my dog’s weight. We were outside and they were playing. I don’t entirely trust my dog off leash yet, so she was on one. In a split second, she wrapped the leash around me and took me down like a boa constrictor. I fell on my knee and hip. I sat there on the ground for a while laughing because I find pratfalls to be hilarious, even if they’re my own.

A few hours later, Male and I were at my house. I was worried about his health and I cannot lift him if anything were to happen. He’s 6’5″ and weighs as much as a small moon. I don’t know; I’m terrible with guessing how much things weigh. Anyway, expecting that we would stay in, I went up to the grocery store, which was insanely busy, and bought ice cream and supplies to make brownies. I bought some firewood. I built a fire and the smell of brownies was infectious. It was going to be a good New Year’s Eve.

Then, Male ruined everything. He insisted we go out and be around people. People! Eesh. I think it was really just his way of distracting me from worrying. He doesn’t like when I worry, but I do it anyway. Well, I thought, if anything did happen, at least he’d already be in the car.

I’m really not at all fond of the hoopla surrounding the holidays. New Year’s Eve especially is full of drunken amateurs. It’s the most dangerous night of the year to be out driving. Plus, I’m not all that social of a creature to begin with, but when I’m not drinking, I climb right into myself at large social events. Meh.

I begrudgingly took a shower and got dressed in NYE attire. I halfheartedly put on lip gloss and did something with my hair. I left the house kicking and screaming inside. We still had no idea where we were going to go. Two of the parties were in the same direction. One was in the other. Not wanting to drive all over creation on the worst night to be out driving, I told him we were only going to two at most. He suggested we forgo the two in the same direction and just go to the one in Hollywood. Fine with me.

However, that meant we would have to navigate Hollywood on New Year’s Eve. Navigating Hollywood is a pain in the tuchus under normal circumstances, but on NYE, you’d probably be safer driving through Aleppo, Syria.

Male doesn’t drive anymore since he had a seizure while driving and crashed into a building a few years ago. Fortunately, only inanimate objects were hurt. They took his driver’s license away and rightfully so. He also doesn’t drink anymore since he is an alcoholic. He’s been sober for over three years.

He decided before we left that he would have one glass of champagne on NYE. I thought it was a bad idea, but I am not his mother or his keeper. He’s an adult and has to make his own decisions. I made him promise to only have one.

He didn’t keep his promise. He drank a split of the worst champagne I’ve ever tasted (I had a sip at midnight) and then he had a glass of beer. He asked me to stop at a store on the way home so he could get some antacid because that champagne really was terrible. He came out with antacid and a beer. Uh oh.

We’ve been through this before. We’ve been involved in one manner or another for thirteen years now. I saw the downfall. I witnessed the whole thing. I told him that I would not go through it again. If he fell again, he would do it alone. In the last three years, everything has been good. I’ve never been a big drinker, especially now that I can’t drink anything without getting hung over, so I stopped drinking, too.

Then, bloody fucking NYE ruined everything. I dropped him at his house with his infernal beer of ruination. He leaned in to give me a kiss and I’m sure it was like kissing a stone. I was angry and disappointed. I do not want your stupid drunken kiss.

So, NYE was spent in Hollywood with fireworks and booming sound systems. I walked for blocks and blocks on a busted knee. It was spent at a party where everyone was drunk except for me. By the end, all they could really talk about was how drunk they were. When I tried to make an exit, a friend hung onto my leg like I was a tree and she was a koala. It was spent watching some drunken frat boy type walk into the middle of Santa Monica Blvd and get hit by a car. His drunken frat boy type friends gathered unsteadily around him in a circle watching his blood pool on the asphalt. It was spent keeping an eye on every driver on the road to make sure they didn’t hit me. It was spent with broken promises and sloppy drunken kisses.

Happy New Year.