I remember as a kid thinking someday when I grow up, I’ll attend glamorous parties and wear fancy dresses and stay out dancing until sunrise…
New Year’s Eve is so overrated.
In our neighborhood, we have a New Year’s Eve crawl. We walk from house to house (3-5 houses) at designated times, eating and drinking among friends. At the stroke of midnight we crawl home. There is no driving which is a good thing. There is also no dancing although a few of the girls do wear fancy-ish dresses. And Kevin R. is dapper in a bow tie.
I really didn’t want to go this year.
I wanted to stay home in my new Ugg tennis shoes (love!), drawing Zentangles with my new pens (also love!).
Does this make me anti-social? Weird? Boring? Normal?
Instead, I forced myself to dress, donning the same black sweater I wore to the neighborhood Christmas party, only this time I didn’t wear it backwards…
Wearing my favorite black and brown taffeta skirt and suede boots, I looked as festive as possible after wallowing around on the couch playing Angry Birds all afternoon. Plus it had been drizzling…BadHairDay.
The neighborhood crowd was smaller than normal and more subdued than typical. Because we teetered on the edge of the fiscal cliff?
Because we are 50-ish?
Depressing weather?
Sting of the Dallas Cowboy loss? Nah, that’s normal…
We counted down, kissed, greeted a new year then crawled home as random gunfire filled the East Dallas air.
Back to my Uggs!
talya
Musical Pairing:
