Gilberto and I haven't stayed up to see the actual beginning of the New Year for exactly six years.
Before that we were young and carefree and did New Year's Eve the way it's supposed to be done. Especially Gilberto. New Year's Eve in Brasil is a big deal. In Santos, where Gilberto grew up, millions of people gather on the beach to drink and jump the waves. They also put a LOT of thought into what color of underwear to don for the night's festivities, depending on what they want out of the coming year. I love that tradition.
So six years ago Gilberto and I were still young and carefree and dating, and it was our first New Year's Eve together. We went to a black tie party at the Hilton in La Jolla. All you can drink. We danced so hard I ended up flinging everything in my purse around the dance floor. Which of course I didn't notice until we were ready to leave. I then spent a good 10 minutes wandering around looking down at people's dancing feet. I didn't find my license (or the expensive lipstick I used to buy before I had real responsibilities), but I did find a twenty dollar bill. Which we used to buy more alcohol.
Unknown to us, it was our last hurrah.
The next year I was married and pregnant, and I believe we were curled up in bed by 8:00. It was something we laughed about at the time, not realizing that it was going to be like that every year after. That we'd never see the ball drop again. That we'd be so tired we'd sleep through all the fireworks and noisemakers that our neighborhood sets off at midnight.
So is the life of parents with small children.
We didn't plan anything differently for this year (we know better by now), but a few days ago my boss gave me a really nice bottle of champagne and some fancy nuts to bring in the New Year with. I ate the nuts for lunch the same day, but the champagne made Gilberto and I think that maybe this year would be our year to get back into the fun party groove. Not that we had grandiose plans to actually leave our house. We decided to go out for a nice dinner and then drink it up at home. And to stay up until midnight.
Dinner started out nice enough at our favorite sushi restaurant, but then the drunk couple next to us started to get really really loud (ah, Saki bombs, how I miss you). The woman, dressed in a super tight sequined dress that her boobs were trying to explode out of, kept saying things like, "I said HEMORRHOIDS, not human droids!" And, "Nope, no boots. When I fight, I fight clean. I wear tennis shoes."
While we were there we were worried that they'd say something inappropriate that Gabi would hear, but now that we made it back home without any explaining to do, it's actually pretty amusing.
So dinner's done, and now we're too full to drink the champagne. My eyes are already drooping, and we both know we're not going to make it to midnight. Just as well. I have some orange juice in the fridge, and I think a much better way to celebrate the New Year is with mimosas for breakfast!
I'll probably wimp out when it comes down to it, but it's a lovely thought.
Happy New Year!