On New Years and other Bogus.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Voilà, that's done. It's purely traditional and pro forma, but I don't want to affront people by not wishing them a happy new year.
People always jump to conclusions way too quickly. Me not wishing you a happy year doesn't necessarily mean I wish you a bad one. It probably just means I'm not thinking about it at that moment.
Social conventions are not the first thing I think about. The fact that I live in a family and village where it's customary to give new year's wishes until half February, isn't helping. You are not thinking about wishing a happy new year when you meet people mid February. Uh-uh. No go.

I had a New Year's party at home last night. Well, till 5 this morning actually.
One thing I learned: never again let some of these girls close to a wide range of different alcoholic beverages after they've eaten raclette. Two were thoroughly pissed, one was a lousy drunk who was in a terrible state (who manages to ignore their limits enough to wind up nearly unconscious before 11 pm on New Year's Eve!?) whom we first put to sleep on her sleeping bag in my brother's room. That was until she started to throw up. In the end I dumped her and her sleeping bag in the bathtub, next to a bucket in case she had more regurgitating urges. A bucket that she of course managed to miss. I let her clean up her own mess this morning. At least she didn't bathe in it; I don't think I would have been able to cope with that over the breakfast table. I hope the smell will leave before my brother reclaims his room.

The other was a talkative drunk, the kind who won't shut up even if everybody around her is ready to bash her head in. In the end I isolated her from the others, who were cranky, tired, and slightly drunk, the latter not helping the first two. They slept in the living room, and I stuck her in my brother's room -- the one that hadn't been vomited in yet.

When I got down, the rest was asleep. I turned off Flashdance and considered dropping myself on one of the couches, but since everybody was asleep and the room smelled of beer, cheap cava, leftover bits of various alcohols and most noticeably sweat, I thought my own room was the better choice.

It was five by then. Four hours later, a blond obnoxious person who hadn't been able to listen to the same song for more than 20 seconds and kept cranking the volume up till the sound quality was complete shit (seriously, why did they have to get all that music off YouTube while they had it on their iPods?). (Yes, I know that wasn't a sentence.) You know her, she frequently is the object of my intense frustration, and thus quite often mentioned in these pages. Her name is Marine.
Anyway she shook me awake asking where our talkative drunk was.

Seriously, I could have slapped her. Were the snores not speaking for themselves?

Anyway, I was thoroughly pissed off, so when she was back asking if she could take a shower, I groaned, even though it sounded like a bark and I wouldn't have been too opposed to have a pack of feral dogs attacking her right there and then.

I suck because I never do what I think. I spend a pathetic amount of time searching for the right words and actions after the event has occurred. Tough, a bit sooner would have been the better timing. Those social conventions I mentioned earlier on are indeed not something I think about, it's something I live with, thanks to the upbringing of my parents. It basically means that you don't slap your guests, even if they prove to be insufferable bitches who get drunk and vomit all over the bathroom rug, or come shake you up to ask some of the most stupid questions known to man.

On a sad, sad note, I did not get drunk last night. Too bad. The scientist in me wants to know what me hungover would be like.

On a happy, happy note, I improvised a particularly crazy dance to Footloose last year (Oh mommy, look! A dumb joke!) and it was the best moment of the evening (put in perspective, it's actually quite sad). I had a blast, broke a sweat and kicked off my shoes. That's what New Year's Eve is all about, innit?

Be this year better than your last, dear readers.