Alone for new year's

Count me in loserville. I might masturbate with one of those festive New Year's hats on, you know, just to keep the mood light.

 

Don't forget the noise-maker.

 

I didn't.

I'll be the noisemaker, depending on my performance and how bad I want to give it to myself.

 

Penis in one hand, grogger in the other.

 

Grogger's a funny word. But not as funny as the picture I've got in my head. I don't think I'd be coordinated enough to pull off that trick, DD. Best of luck to you. Don't pull anything. ...

 

Why 11:54? Or is that self-explanatory?

New Years Eve was an interesting holiday for me in the 1990s. It pretty much defined my love life, or often the lack thereof.

1990: Go to all-night drug and alcohol free (ha!) party at the local Y, expect to at least get to second base with the girl from art class I've been pursuing all semester. Exchange a peck (heh) at midnight, find her in the arms of my "friend" doug four hours later.

1991: Finally involved in my first real relationship. We're in love. We've got BIG plans. My parents leave, the stage is set...and she bails b/c we have to pick up her friend so we can hang out at my best friend's house. "C'mon it won't take that long," I plead. No. We have to go pick up her friend.

Then we get to my friend's house and she springs on me that she has to be home by midnight. Her queen evil witch fucking psycho mother won't let her stay until the stroke of midnight, which would have her home by 12:10 am. No. She has to be home by midnight. So in what I freely admit was one of the stupidest things I've ever done, I tell her I'm going to stay for the stroke of midnight (heh) with my friends from HS whom I haven't seen since August. Another guy (who pined for her something fierce) drives her home and we're broken up within days.

So to review: I didn't get laid, she left with another guy and we broke up. I spend the next 720 days begging her to take me back. Never happened. Last I knew she had herpes. Seriously.

1992: After moping about said chick for most of New Years Eve, I end up making out with a really cute girl. That was a nice New Years.

1993: Back from college for the first time, I "renew" acquitances with the sister of one of my best friends. After many years of flirtation, it looks like New Years could finally be the night. Except after making out and stuff before midnight and locking lips at midnight, she ends up with another one of our friends...this sleazebucket who could charm the pants off a nun. Fucker.

1994: In the throes of the wonderful first month with my girlfriend. Me and my buddies decide to join her and her friends in the city. We see the Apple begin to drop from like 525 blocks away. No one can tell when it hits, so people just sort of start celebrating and hugging and crap. I kiss my girlfriend. she kisses me. Later on, as we're mauling each other in my dorm room, we swap "I love yous" for the first time.

Thirteen years later, we'll just hang out here and watch movies or play Scrabble and be old people.

So keep your head up Mikey. You never know when one of these New Years Eves will treat you much better.

 

New Year's Eve 1997 was spent wondering if my then girlfriend has miscarried. Good times!

 

And don't swing the wrong thing.

 

Dare I ask what a grogger is?

 

That's a great story, sir.

No, the 11:54 p.m. wasn't self-explanatory.

Back in 1999, I was 16 and never dated or kissed or had any real contact with a girl before, and I started to pick up signals from this girl on our school trip to Florida. She's sitting closer to me at the rest stop, at dinner, hanging out with mutual friends more ... you know the deal with high-school romances. Then I taught her how to play poker on Dec. 30. We shared a lot of laughs and said goodnight. I had a really good feeling about her.

So I go to my room with my friends and begin talking about this girl I was digging, and they're saying, "Dude. You should ask her to tomorrow night's banquet." So I made it my goal to do it.

The next night, I get one of my roommates to have his girlfriend bring the girl down to the lobby, so we could meet them there. My friend, Joe, meets his girlfriend, Jessica, in the lobby while I was outside planning my words. My shirt was untucked, so I figured I'd unzip the pants and tuck it in before the girl came outside; too late. She walked outside and my pants were still unzipped, flaps hanging to my sides and shirt covering my junk. Remarkably, I ask her to go to the banquet with me. Then I say, "Awesome. Now you can watch me zip up my pants. ..."

I told Joe I was going to ask her to be my girlfriend at midnight and Joe told Jessica, who told the girl. So we have a great night, one of the best of my life, and I'm all ready to ask her to be mine at midnight -- got the words planned and everything. But at 11:54 p.m., she looks at me and said, "So, is there something you want to ask me?" I was partly relieved and partly peeved, but I said, "Yeah, there is. Will you please be my girlfriend?" We kissed at 11:54, then at midnight -- on the dance floor in front of about 500 or so people.

So every New Years Eve, at 11:54 p.m., I think back to her and that night. I can't stand the girl now, but it's the memory I miss most. We shared three more great New Years together. But none ever came close to that one, and neither have the last four.

Eventually something will top that story for me. But this year, I'm just going to hang out with Jose Cuervo.

 

Dirty, dirty minds in these parts.

 

That's a great story too.

But what kind of fuckin school did you go to where you got to celebrate Y2K on a trip to Florida? Geez. We were lucky to get a day at an amusement park.