It's NYE as I write this, I've already written my post for tomorrow, the first day of 2014, so yay for me!! This is a bonus post. (By the time you read it you'll be long past NYE, sorry.)
It's 11:09 on NYE, to be precise.
Why, you may ask am I blogging right now? Loser? Giant L in front of my forehead? Nothing to do on NYE? Well, yeah, pretty much, and while it should not bother me-- I'm a 45-year-old woman with many, many excellent and awful NYE's under my belt--the truth is, it DOES bother me.
It bothers me like my right eyelid. It's caving to gravity and it pisses me off. It doesn't make sense, but yet, there it is.
Me enjoying some alone time on NYE, what's the big deal? Enjoy it, drink it in, literally drink your favorite Champagne (which I am, thankyouverymuch), listen you your favorite music (I've made a completely awesome New Year's playlist too), but still. I am feeling like the underdog in a teeny-bopper movie. The girl you're rooting for on prom night even though she's in her dated girly room alone pining for the hot guy at the dance who's with the mean prom queen.
I knew I didn't have concrete plans going into tonight. In fact, my tentative plan was to relieve the exes (is that a word?) of their NYE childcare commitments if nothing materialized. But I got a text from an-out-of-town friend at 9:24 AM today informing me that he'd unexpectedly be in town by 6 pm. Really? That seemed like a sign! And both exes were underwhelmed with my potential, conditional childcare offer; and then at about 6 pm, I got an potential offer from another friend.
But, and I swear to god, I'm not making this up, the fog rolled in, the airport was shut down, friend number 1 didn't land until after 10 pm, I ended up with no daughters, and I missed a text from friend number 2 while updating my flipping iphone that may or may not have (although probably wouldn't have)changed the course of the night. So here I sit.
I get it. I do. There is a reason that it all worked out this way. (Yes, I am one of those freaks who does actually believe that things work out how they do for a reason.) It must be good. It must be best. Maybe I missed getting run over by an Uber cab downtown, or throwing up caviar and overpriced Champagne, tee hee. Or making a complete ass of myself (my bet is on this). Maybe my kids would have been a royal pain in the ass (?!). Maybe I don't need the complications that could have come from a night out with either friend.
But really, NYE? It still makes me feel like a disconnected, un-fun, unloved, persona non gratis.
Thank god tomorrow is a new year and I can plan a raging party at my house for next year, lol!