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Part 2
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It has been said that New Year’s Eve is the worst holiday in creation. Mostly, it has been me that has said this. I’ve mentioned before that I don’t really like people all that much, but I do enjoy parties (“You hate people!” “But I love gatherings. Isn’t it ironic?”). This is actually the main reason why I hate New Years so much. As my friend and former roommate Jen can attest to, there are three things that can kill a party instantly: a movie, a board game, and a clock. There is nothing relaxed and fun about a countdown. And having to plan where you’ll be when (not in the car, for example) when midnight hits is lame and frustrating. Add to that the bizarre unrealistic expectations people generally attach to their New Years plans and you’re just setting yourself up for disappointment. My New Years Eve plans generally involve turning off my phone and going to bed early. Bah humbug.

However. I like to consider myself an open-minded person, and when the boys asked me to meet them at Joe’s by 11:45, I decided to give fun NYE another chance. I was running late and dashed into the bar at about 11:55. I paced around for awhile, looking for Travis, Matt, and Siami. Five minutes later I still hadn’t found them, and when the ball dropped, I was wedged between a wall and a couple making out. See what I mean?

The guys arrived shortly after midnight, and a couple rounds of pool and drinks later, we were ready to leave. I hadn’t intended to extend the evening beyond Joe’s, but by the time we were moving out, I was in no condition to drive. I’d graciously finished Matt’s drink at Joe’s, so he was (apparently) in better shape and we all piled into his car to head to Siami’s. Matt gave me his way-too-big-for-me coat to wear, and I spent the car ride and most of the next few hours bundled up in at least 80 square yards of downy fluff.

When we got to Siami’s, we grabbed beers and headed down into the basement where his younger brothers were playing guitar and drums. Actual guitar and actual drums, none of this Rock Band nancy shit. I started checking out the drum player when Travis started waving his arms, trying to get my attention. He held up a single finger on one hand, and four on the other. I must have stared for at least 30 seconds before I realized he was trying to alert me to the fact that the hot drum player was 14 years old. Yikes.

At this point the chronology gets a little fuzzy, but rest assured there was plenty of drinking. We spent most of the night (morning) in Siami’s kitchen around a bottle of Buffalo Trace whiskey. Although I know I kept drinking from it, my shotglass was always mysteriously full. Later on in the evening, Siami’s mom put a plate of the most delicious-looking ham sandwiches I’ve ever seen down on the island in front of us. Not counting Thanksgiving and Christmas, I’ve been (mostly) vegetarian for about a year and a half now. But when in Rome… A ham sandwich, a bratwurst, and a potsticker later, I realized I’m going to have to start tacking “and not when I’m drunk” onto the end of my “I’m a vegetarian except when…” speech.

By now people had started dropping off into the numerous couches and beds scattered throughout the house. Travis passed out in a chair watching Cinderella Man, and Matt, Siami, and I went into the garage to sit and smoke a hookah for a spell. Siami went to bed, Matt and I played one last game of pool (I scratched on the eight ball, otherwise victory would have been mine), and then I made the fatal error of lying down on an extremely comfortable couch. A few minutes later, I woke up to find that Matt had left (to find a place to crash, I’d assumed at the time), with the lights and TV still on. I found the light switch and off button (on my first try) and crawled back into my nest of cushions and went to sleep.

What felt like 20 minutes later, I heard people walking around upstairs. I came up from the basement and was met in the kitchen by Travis, John, and Siami’s mom, who immediately offered me a cup of coffee. I like this family. Travis didn’t see Matt’s car parked outside and quickly surmised that he drove himself home. Either Matt has a superpower enabling him to sober up at will and at lightening speed, or he wasn’t nearly as drunk as I was when I nearly beat him really badly in pool. Awesome either way. After coffee and sitting around, Travis drove me back to my car and in about an hour I was on my way to Indiana to live out my hangover at the Indianapolis Children’s Museum. Because I’m a champ, that’s why.