Tuesday, January 1, 2013

New Years Day


Well, the first day of the new year was - pretty darn good, I must admit.

Didn't think it would be so, first thing in the morning. 8 am, that is. Woke up extremely dehydrated. Tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth dehydrated. Wonder why? Well, let's review the past twelve hours, shall we?

(Honestly, I've drunk worse on New Years Eve. I been to Times Square during the Dinkins days, when it was pure anarchy and bacchanalian revelry. But my tolerance has taken a nosedive since I entered my forties.)

Got home from work at 6, had some beef stew the wife made. Got the girls into their pajamas and then we drove over to our friends' house. Their children played with ours for two hours before we put them to bed, and then we watched Neighborhood Watch with Ben Stiller and Vince Vaughan. Afterwards, we channel surfed as the countdown to midnight proceeded, then hung out about another hour before scooping up the girls and the wife driving us all home.

I never laugh as much at any time of the year except when we hang out with these friends. Tears-in-the-eyes laughing, doubled-over belly laughs. And this is even before any serious drinking is done.

I didn't drink too much, but just enough to wisely not drive. Hmmm. Now that I'm reviewing what I had, I may have to rephrase that. I had four Belgian beers (forget the brand) chased by mini-shot glasses of Bailey's Irish Cream, over the course of three hours. Not raging drunk, but happy. Then, a glass of champagne with a little Chambord for the countdown. Finally, my buddy gave me something that tasted like jet fuel, and after that, I knew we were either crashing at their house or the wife was driving home.

But I was able to get out of bed with only a minor headache. Two sixteen-ounce glasses of water cured my dehydration (and I continued to drink water during the day). I fixed the girls eggs and toast for breakfast when they all came downstairs, around 9.

The wife took the little 'uns into the city to see the tree from 12 to 3. I did three loads of laundry, read a whole bunch of pages of my new PJF paperback, watched a surprisingly entertaining old Western DVR'd from TCM called Quantrill's Raiders (though it completely fictionalized the outcome to the Lawrence, Kansas slaughter). Tidied up, put out trash and recycling, blah, blah, blah. Girls came home and the wife went out for a massage. I managed to get a handle on our finances and did some exercising.

Tonight we're going to watch the conclusion of a Frank Sinatra flick we started last week. Then it's back to work, three full days until the weekend. Domestic bliss and tranquility. Just what the Hopper's been craving.

Until we meet again ... (why not tomorrow?)

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