Happy new year, everyone. Privately, I'm welcoming it in with a stainless steel shot glass (actually a sauce cup) of the Dimple Pinch, a Speyside whisky with a ridiculous name. It's a smooth, carmelly scotch in which the peat is present but not predominant. The bottle is attractive.
Tonight I know of four parties that took place. I received notice on Facebook about them. One was interesting but unfeasible, one was completely inscrutable, one held absolutely no interest for me at all, and one might have been fun but the only directions were "you know where." I did not, in fact, know where.
Instead of any of them, Rebecca and I drove out to her sister Sheryl's house for dinner and games. Three families together, eschewing all formality as we played Taboo, conversation turning raunchier once the kids left the room. We made tacos and we watched Dick Clark soldiering through his NYE broadcast. It says something about his legacy that he's permitted to host a show like that--anyone else all Botox'ed up and having suffered a stroke would never, ever, ever have seen air time. Good for him, though.
We laughed all night long. It was a really great time, even though I wasn't in a club or surrounded by friends and acquaintances. Life changes all the time.
Now I'm finishing a scotch.