Bonjour, 2009

Last New Year's Eve I drank too much. I was rooming with The New Oregonian, and CameraMan came over and mixed gin and tonics and we all watched The Big Lebowski and took a drink every time someone said "Dude." It didn't take long to feel tipsy. CM and I were feeling smug with the covert knowledge that earlier in the day, after several long discussions on the subject, we had decided to start dating. We didn't think it would last long (February 9, 2008 was the end date we had set, actually—we were expiration dating), so we weren't telling anyone else just yet. After the movie was over, we stumbled upstairs to a party, where I took huge numbers of dark blurry pictures and bonded with my co-workers in a series of deep conversations the details of which were a bit hazy come the next morning. Right before midnight, the balcony conveniently emptied, and CM and I shared a private kiss to ring in the new year. (Feel free to make retching sounds right about now.)

This year I didn't drink nearly so much, partly because we were driving to a party, and partly because we chose a different movie. I made fancy mac & cheese, The New Oregonian came over, CM mixed gin and tonics, and we all watched Superbad and took a drink every time someone said "McLovin" or mentioned any euphemism for the male genitalia. After the movie we drove to a party and chatted with our co-workers, and left well before 12, enduring the jeers of our friends, just so we could be at home alone by midnight. We got back to the apartment, uncorked a special bottle of champagne we got for our birthdays, and then we toasted and kissed just as the time-delayed ball dropped on TV.

The details didn't change all that much from last year to this one, but everything's completely different. There's something about the start of a new year that makes anything seem possible. 2009 feels full of excitement and promise, and I can't wait to see where I am next New Year's Eve.

I'm going to need to find a new drinking game by then.