As per tradition, we spent New Year’s Eve at Lynnette’s parents house. We have been doing this every year since I proposed to her at the stroke of midnight to start 2005. It’s possible we did the same before then, but I don’t remember. That was a long time ago.
If I was concerned with total accuracy in terms of posting pictures with regards to how we spent our time last night, 93% of the pictures in this space would be of food and 5% of them would be of the inside of a bathroom. Lucky for you, I am not concerned with total accuracy.
My family eats like this: We wait for everyone to show up, someone says prayer, and then we eat as much food as we possibly can before Matty makes a plate.
Lynnette’s family eats like this: They cook a whole bunch of food, but only make some of it available for an hour-and-a-half, during which we eat. Then someone arbitrarily decides that it’s “time to eat.” Then, all of the food gets set up and then they eat until they can’t.
It took me a long time to get used to Lynnette’s family barbeques because they always felt like marathon eating sessions. As mentioned, with my family, you eat what you can while you can, then they put the food away. Not so with Lynnette’s. The food stays out. Last night, I was so full that I started getting that watery taste in my mouth. It was the taste of possible vomit and actual self-hatred. I didn’t vomit. But I hated myself so much that I figured I couldn’t possibly hate myself any more, so I got up off my ass and ate more crab legs about half-an-hour later.
We took a stroll around the block to walk it off, and it didn’t make me feel much better. We found some fake deer which Madison tried to feed. You know what they say: misery loves company.
That three-hour period between when I finally finished eating and midnight was pretty tough to get to. I tuned into the last hour of Raw. I roamed through Netflix and found a movie called After Porn Ends, a documentary about porn stars who are trying to live “normal” lives after their careers in pornography. I felt it attempted to answer a legitimate question. The premise had me at “porn,” but I didn’t get through all of it because it got tough to watch middle-aged humans past their physical primes and try to imagine them as attractive at one time. I don’t know. Maybe it hit a little too close to home for me. The fat and old parts, anyway. I also watched a baseball documentary called Ballplayer: Pelotero about young baseball players in the Dominican Republic. I made it to midnight. Madison didn’t fare so well.
The Goob didn’t nap in the afternoon. She was wired until about 10:30. From that point, her energy waned and began a precipitous decline. She was barely awake when we ambled outside to play with the one box of pop-pops that we purchased from Foodland. This should erase any doubt from your mind that we know how to party. Because we do. Obviously. But anyway, Madison was fussy when we got outside, then claimed to be scared of the pop-pops because she wasn’t in a festive mood. This wasn’t a good thing because Lynnette’s parents are always in a festive mood. She didn’t really want to talk to anyone, she didn’t really want to take pictures. So we didn’t press it.
Eventually, as everything happens, it became 2013. Happy New Year!