New Years Recap...

My New Years wasn’t a complete bust.

Sure I cheated on my diet and had two drinks
…but I had the vodka with cranberry juice…and cranberry juice is healthy right?

BUT I was not drunk.

In fact, I was completely sober.

I was actually home by 1 am too. Yeah I know. Sober and I beat the rising sun?

’08 is going to be a great year.

Actually I slept all day Tuesday. I think I woke up officially around 3:00pm.

I apparently needed that rest because my feet were burning from last night.

I am convinced one of the circles of hell consists of stilettos, endless dancing, and the agony of walking two blocks to the car, hobbling from the pain.

I don’t know I always insist on buying the highest heels my little ass can find. I trip over my own feet wearing flip flops but I always want 4 inch spiked heels.
…to bob and dance in.

So I was at FUR last night and I enjoyed myself thoroughly. I guess since we got there by 9 and nonstop dancing and drinking *for them* the minute we got in the door, no wonder we were popped by midnight.

Or maybe our asses are just old.

So we danced, snickered at white peoples dancing, avoided the OBNOXIOUS amount of “Arabs” that suddenly infiltrated the club, avoided more drunk white people, and fought and scrapped to get to the door.

I don’t know who is more annoying on the dance floor: drunken white people or drunken “others”. None of them can dance after a certain number of drinks but damn if they’re not going to flay their arms about like they’re having a seizure and fall all on you while you’re trying to get your groove on.

I swear for it to be against their religion to drink and all that jazz…Arabs sure do get fucked up in the club.

I mean I could only wonder would they be stoned if only people knew how geeked the men got from Beyonce’s “Get Me Bodied”.

I’ve never seen so many “straight” men “Uh Oh Dance” more than the ladies. Hell I got knocked out the circle so some guy can twerk his ass up.

And another note…Wash your ass before you come to the club. Smelling like grilled onions and a Dock’s fishwich sandwich is never the hotness.

…It's always the musty ones who are the most active on the dance floor. Main ones wanting to dance and wave their arms around like they don’t know they stank.

Better yet...Don’t get your drunk, sweaty, musty ass on the dance floor knowing you’re not Sure. Put those fucking arms down.

I fucked around and walked in a mass of sweating, writhing bodies trying to knock my way to the stairs so we can go…damn near passed out from the smell.

Never mind I almost got trampled when there was bottlenecking at the steps as people pushed/pulled to get up/down the stairs.

…And since I’m that rude bitch in the club who will push you aside when I think you’re taking too long to move out of my way, I was pushing my way through the crowd. I’m usually the “leader” in the girl train when we’re trying to move somewhere in the club.

I’m straight throwing bows and knocking folks to the side because sometimes the polite “excuse me” just doesn’t work.

Although this one girl wanted to pop her lips when I knocked her ass aside since she wanted to hesitate on moving and I had to ask her did she want an ass whooping for the ’08.

About 10 people must have stepped on my already throbbing toes, toes that were begging for mercy, and this guy’s entire drink was dumped down the front of my shirt when he was pushed and the cup was knocked out of his hand.

So I was tired, my feet were hurting and I was wet from the alcohol.
…and I smelled like I dove head first into the Bacardi bottle.

Then my people got lost in the crowd so I had to wait for them…and oh yeah these big ass dudes decided to start the ’08 off right by getting into a fist fight right in front of me.
…Thankfully I was repaid for getting the hell out of the way by getting splashed with a daiquiri.

We finally stumbled out the club where every 10 feet we were approached by bums begging for money.

Ummm…did we not just leave the club? Fuck out here, we spent our money on booze.
I mean the homeless here are far more polite *at least the ones I’ve ran across* than the ones in Chicago but damn, don’t assume I have spare money lying around just because I just left the club.

I know some want to catch the drunk folk slipping and either rob them or get more than a buck or two out of them while they’re in their drunken state…but trust I’m never that drunk.

I finally made it home and threw my ass into the bed. I actually wore socks to bed because my feet were hurting just that bad.

I’m so glad I didn’t have to work New Years.

But my ’08 wasn’t a bust. I brought in the New Year sober and had a great time.

…Oh and one of my friends is cheating on her husband…and she wants a divorce.

See? Always a confessional.

Happy New Years!!