Happy New Year everyone!
I know, it’s kind of late for that. But I have realized that for the past month or so, I have been late. No, not that kind of late. Not lady business late- bite your tongue. I am just about a week late with everything that is going on. I have managed to meet all deadlines pretty well, but only with an overwhelming sense of “wait, WHAT?” as I am crossing those finish lines. It all started on Thanksgiving. And I have been cruising by on a 5-7 day mental delay ever since. So to me, it seems like the new year right about now.
What did you all do on your new year’s? You probably already told me, but I am about a week behind on checking in on blogland. Here’s what I did. On New Year’s Eve, I worked. And by that time, I had just limped to the end of a week of very snowy days. I shall not bore you with why snowy days in Seattle result in extra long work days for library folk, but suffice it to say that I had worked a week where the hours, they were looooong. I did nothing but work for a week there, and I know some people live their whole lives doing nothing but work, and have no kind of downtime or fun or seeing of loved ones whatsoever, but that just ain’t me so that week was way weird. And then New Years Eve rolled around and there I was, still at work. The whole thing made me want to say GOOMBYE TWO FOUSAND EIGHT as quick as humanly possible so that I could have a fresh new year with which to remember what Nordic Boy’s face looked like, I hadn’t seen it in so long.
On the last eve of ’08 the snow had let up which meant that I was free to leave work at a reasonable hour and not think about it for the rest of the night. YEE HAW. Nordic Boy and I met up with BioGirl and Borgsmith at the Borgsmith homestead, where we proceeded to act like big old fogies. Here’s how.
First of all, Nordic Boy and I had gotten up that morning before the crack of ass and had been running non-stop until the moment we hit the deck at Borgsmith’s house. That meant that we arrived tired. Like, yeah, we are ready to party, as long as the party can be in a sitting down position. Staying upright was just about the most we could do.
But you know what? We were just thinking about not staying upright. Little did we know that one in our midst was going to not just THINK IT. She was going to BE IT. See, it all started because I needed a coaster. And the ones right there on the table were already in use. So BioGirl runs upstairs to get me another coaster. And on the way back, she decided to fall down the stairs. Like, fall on her ass and slide all the way down the stairs in the loudest, scariest-sounding manner possible. CRASH BOOM CRASH OOF BANG. As the rest of us stood up in alarm and looked toward the stairwell, all we saw was the requested coaster, doing a perfect roll right toward me.
We all rushed over. BioGirl was fine. Well, she actually was hurting due to the smacking of her ass on all the stairs, but she took it like a champ.
All I did was ask for a coaster, and that girl sure busted her ass for me trying to get one.
Get it? She busted her ass, as in she tried really hard, but then she literally busted her ass. See what I did there? Ha ha! For droll acquaintance be forgot!
Anyhow. To recap. So far, the ingredients that indicate a Grandmaw Style party are:
Arriving at 7 pm already ready for bed.
Being very concerned about having a proper coaster.
Running around the house to fulfill coaster needs.
Almost breaking a hip falling down a flight of stairs.
And then, do you know what the Grandmaw Style Party Handbook says one should do once someone has almost broken their neck while coaster hunting? DO YOU?
You spend the next few hours talking about every injury and ailment you have ever had in your mothersucking life.
I’m serious. This is what we did. We talked about the time someone broke a bone as a child, and the time someone almost got run over by a car, and the time someone got stitches. How many stitches? How much blood was there? Did you almost die? Ooh, that reminds me of the time I fell out of a two story window! Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I projectile vomited across two rooms!? FOR HOURS. We didn’t talk about bowel movements, but it was this close to going there.
After all the war stories were told, we attempted to play a board game. Which at that point was almost incoherent because the sleepy sauce was hitting us hard. And then at about ten minutes to midnight, we turned on the tv to watch the ball drop. Well, first we watched an incredibly awkward few moments of Ryan Seacrest welcoming us to Times Square while Taylor Swift and that Joe Jonas kid tried to stand as far away from each other as possible to as not to get break-up cooties from each other and Kellie Pickler mesmerized us with her glowing white eye shadow. Then the ball dropped.
We all sat on the couch as the seconds ticked down to midnight, our drinks in hand, ready to clink. Happy New Year! Nordic Boy and I smooched. Borgsmith and BioGirl smooched. We clinked glasses. Then I turned to stand up to give BioGirl and Borgsmith a hug each. Which they received graciously in Grandmaw fashion, by chiming in, along with Nordic Boy, in the following manner.
“Oh my god, she’s standing up for hugs. So, we’re all getting up? Ok, we’re all getting up. Oh my god I’m so tired. What the hell, Librarian Girl? Who asked you to get up?”
Happy New Year, everyone.