Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Greatly Exaggerated

It's about goddamn time. I agree. 'Redheads, we're one year closer to flying cars, dippin' dots, and, ironically, time travel. I had planned to ring in '07 blog-wise much sooner than now, but my computer decided to contract the Y2K7 virus the weekend of New Year's Eve and it took a round, steaming, fudge-dragon on me. Many thanks to MyComputerBuddy for pushing my computer's nose in it and making sure it never does it again. It's been gone for a week...and I've missed you...and the porn. So, as of this installment, this blog officially spans 3 years.

Ok, so 2007...I hope you all rang it in with the appropriate amount of revelry. My New Year's Eve was not exactly what I had in mind. To give you an idea of what this New Year's had to live up to, please to be checking out the recap of last year's festivities. I wanted to try to recapture the informal, laid back, low-key celebration this year...maximize the fun...minimize dent in the wallet. In order to guarantee the first part, I made sure to spend it with good friends Allyson & Jeff. We were joined by their good friends John & Dara and friend to all, Jay Hastings. Fun was in the cards. The latter goal was pretty much quashed by the choice of location. John & Dara made reservations at Teatro Goldoni, a fine Italian restaurant in DC. I got there a bit early, so I decided to belly up to the bar and grease the skids to give the evening that fuzzy, festive feeling. I sipped on a rum & coke, tapped my toes to the jazzy bar mitzvah band that was playing next to me, and alternately watched The Simpsons on mute behind the bar and the party people that walked in while I waited. When my peeps arrived, I settled my tab at the bar. Little did I know, that for the price of these drinks, this should've been happening...

$20 for two rum & cokes and they better be rum & coke & tits...just sayin' is all. We sat down at our table and took a look at the menu. $22.50 for soup. I'll type that again...$22.50 for soup. I wouldn't mind paying that much if, say, they used gold bouillon cubes in the broth. The rest of the menu was just as pricey, but I ended up getting a particularly sumptuous lobster risotto that made my tastebuds dance like no one's watching. Besides, it wasn't about the money...it was about good food, good friends, and finishing off the year right. As the night progressed, we waddled back to the bar for the last hour of the year for the requisite streamers, silly hats, and crappy champagne. It's not officially New Year's until Jared gets a migraine, so the surrounding revelers obliged by sounding off their noisemakers. Noisemakers are called that for a reason...nobody expects windchimes when you blow into them, but these didn't sound remotely festive. These sounded like an elephant rape whistle. My brain wept. Anywho, the year rolled over with the appropriate fanfare...I filled my '07 quota for being kissed by Jay Hastings...the man likes his scotch...and his dog, Baxter.

I'm gonna snap this installment off right here...I'll have plenty more backlogged random crap and good times to get to in a day or so. But, I'll leave you with one of my predictions for 2007: Way too many James Bond marathons.

To be continued...

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home