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East Coast in the House
Friday, December 31st, 2010 07:45 pmI want to take the chance right now to sincerely thank everyone who was so supportive and there during the chaos with my Grandma last week. Things are starting to calm down now. It is what it is. Aunt Doreen's husband actually hit it off with Owen at the super top secret post-funeral luncheon, which, in turn, opened a channel to getting the guy to actually talk to me. I don't know if any opinions were changed. Doreen herself didn't say much, but I feel like the whole affair ended on a slightly more hopeful note than I initially anticipated.
So, thanks, loves. <3
I don't start at my new job until Tuesday, so I look forward to spending this weekend catching up on your lives when I'm not (possibly) tailgating the Winter Classic in the Carnegie Science Center lot (Katrina's mom got her tickets and she's taking my brother; Owen and I just want to get drunk in public with rowdy Pens fans) and roadtripping to St. Louis with Gabe to help him move back to the Keystone state.
Happy 2011, kids! New Years Eve makes me tingle. I've been humming Auld Lang Syne all day and rolling "twenty-eleven" around in my head just to test how it sounds. I'm a freak. I still buy into the whole "new year = new chance to not suck at life" and I feel like everything is sacred and new. New Years 2005: I literally sat at the coffee counter at the Donut Hole, chatting it up with Susie who had to work graveyard, and this old man who was clearly shitfaced. We watched the sun come up over the highway, then ran outside and danced in the westbound lanes while Susie's manager laughed from the sidewalk. 2003 was rung in at the Trenton, NJ Amtrak station, sitting on my suitcase in the waiting area with dozens of other travelers, waiting for my friend's dad to pick me up. We watched Rockin' New Year's Eve on a tiny, grainy, TV mounted to the wall.
2011 will be a small gathering at my apartment with kielbasa and veggie pizza and a case of Labatt. I'll get drunk and demand that we watch Rockin' New Year's Eve and screech at anyone who dares mock Dick Clark. I love Dick Clark. I love New Years Eve. I think it's more magical than Christmas.
Be safe and happy tonight!
Don't drink and drive. Wrap it up. Go Penguins.
I'm out. See you next year. <3
So, thanks, loves. <3
I don't start at my new job until Tuesday, so I look forward to spending this weekend catching up on your lives when I'm not (possibly) tailgating the Winter Classic in the Carnegie Science Center lot (Katrina's mom got her tickets and she's taking my brother; Owen and I just want to get drunk in public with rowdy Pens fans) and roadtripping to St. Louis with Gabe to help him move back to the Keystone state.
Happy 2011, kids! New Years Eve makes me tingle. I've been humming Auld Lang Syne all day and rolling "twenty-eleven" around in my head just to test how it sounds. I'm a freak. I still buy into the whole "new year = new chance to not suck at life" and I feel like everything is sacred and new. New Years 2005: I literally sat at the coffee counter at the Donut Hole, chatting it up with Susie who had to work graveyard, and this old man who was clearly shitfaced. We watched the sun come up over the highway, then ran outside and danced in the westbound lanes while Susie's manager laughed from the sidewalk. 2003 was rung in at the Trenton, NJ Amtrak station, sitting on my suitcase in the waiting area with dozens of other travelers, waiting for my friend's dad to pick me up. We watched Rockin' New Year's Eve on a tiny, grainy, TV mounted to the wall.
2011 will be a small gathering at my apartment with kielbasa and veggie pizza and a case of Labatt. I'll get drunk and demand that we watch Rockin' New Year's Eve and screech at anyone who dares mock Dick Clark. I love Dick Clark. I love New Years Eve. I think it's more magical than Christmas.
Be safe and happy tonight!
Don't drink and drive. Wrap it up. Go Penguins.
I'm out. See you next year. <3
