Why I'm Evil

You know those people who come to work sick and cough all over everything? I bitch about them. And today, I join their filthy ranks. I'm not at work right now because I'm dedicated or motivated or want the boss to see that nothing gets in the way of my career. I'm here because I'm broke. And because I'm a big evil germ-spreader. And because all I do at work is surf the net, talk on the phone and read anyway and if I stayed home I'd be doing the exact same thing only in my pajamas and with intermittent naps.

I may have caught the bug in New York City hopping around from party to party on NYE until, that's right, 8:30 a.m. It was a spontaneous trip largely, but not entirely, funded by taxpayers of the small Indiana town in which I was raised (my best friend's Trust, from her Gramp's job as mayor). Here were a few goals of my NYC goals:

1. Big Night Out on NYE: I generally hate NYE. It's overrated, never that fun, and crowded and expensive and all of that crap. But When in Rome... one may as well go all out. Six parties and thirteen hours later: mission accomplished.

2. To smooch a handsome fella at midnight: At 2 seconds to twelve, I grabbed the closest hottie I could find and laid one on him. He's a physics grad from Princeton named Asher or Alden or Alistair or something, who now does some medical job I can't remember. He kind of stuck around after that, so we talked and danced and then he asked me if I had any coke. My friend and left for the next party shortly thereafter, sans Astor McCokerson.

3. To have NY Pizza and Coke (as in soda): Done. Twice.

4. To see some touristy stuff: Done, sort of. Went to Times Square and Rockefeller Center (yep, it's a big tree alright) January 1. Every time there was a gust of wind, confetti rained down from rooftops.

5. To drink a fancy, overpriced martini in Manhattan Somewhere Swanky: Key Lime Pie martini in a hipped-out jazz club: mission accomplished.

6. To spend some Q.T. lounging around with my best friend: We spent a very high percentage of time in her teensy East Village apartment in our pajamas watching movies and eating milkshakes.

7. To see someone famous: I'm pretty sure I saw the guy who used to play the dad on Happy Days. More notably, I met a famous pup--a rescue dog named Theodore who who found firemen in 911 rubble.

8. To do something moderately literary: Had a drink at Chumley's, where Dorothy Parker and many others used to come hang out with writer types during prohibition, ""A New York City institution, this former Greenwich Village speakeasy, opened in 1922, has its original booths, fireplace, and no-name entrance still intact, so remember the address or you'll never find it. The hodgepodge interior includes framed book covers - F. Scott Fitzgerald allegedly wrote parts of 'The Great Gatsby' here - lifeboat memorabilia, sawdust on the floor, and a resident black lab."

As much fun as it was, I'm so glad to be home. And that the holidays are over. And that in 2006, I will kiss my 20's goodbye. Now I need to just make it another 5 hours at the desk until I can go home and crash in my nice, quiet, comparatively enormous apartment.