Well, it's another year. Woo-hoo. Let's recap the last year and then on to how I celebrated the new year...this is gonna be a long post.

What have I learned or reaffirmed from this past year?
1. Nothing good ever comes from consorting with Germans.
2. Work hard and you just might get rewarded.
3. People's egos will even come in the way of what is good.
4. Keep the friends you have close, you don't know when they will wander off.

My friend Jenn wrote in my Christmas card what we learned together from this last year. Most of these things have been learned on road trips.
"1. The Washington Center men are incapable of having functional relationships.
2. All Irishmen, while adorable, are mad, alcoholic commitment-phobic bastards.
3. ALWAYS go south for Spring Break.
Therefore, in the coming year, we will have to date non-TWC, non-Irish guys in the South (preferably the Carribbean). YES! We will learn from our mistakes."
A very good summary from Jenn, follow this and learn from our mistakes.

Ok, so for the first time in my life I did not spend New Years in Kansas City, Missouri. I headed up to New York City. Yup, the craziness of New York City.

I get to New Jersey where I meet my friend to change and then head up to the City. We go to another friend's apartment where we meet the rest of the group. They are all pre-partying and having a great time. I find out that two of the people there are bilikens, yes, they went to SLU. The girl and I made fun of the disfunctionalness of boys who graduated from St. Louis Country Day. Soon enough we're leaving to go to the City. After a very long walk, we arrive at the NJTransit station in lovely South Orange and figure out we've missed the train. The girl, who I had been making fun of Country Day boys with, is in a bad way. Not good, basically passes out and will be kicked off the train when the next one comes. Some go off in search of water and coffee to sober her up. In the meantime, she proceedes to loose her lunch/dinner/snack/all she drank over my friend's coat, herself and the station floor. Hmmmm, not good. We get her to lie down and pass out again, my people in the station are asking us if she is ok and if she is breathing. Now, why would they do that? Why would 10 friends who are obviously caring for a girl, talking to her, giving her water, covering her up becuase her world is showing, let her lie on a bench not breathing? Well, her friend went got the car, and we had to take her all the way down the stairs to put her in. The two frenchmen in our group took her down, they were, of course, smoking while stumbling/carrying her. Funny site. Four of the girls miss the next train becuase we had to put her in the car. Great.

Finally get into the City. Go to this dive of a bar with all these rude people. But the bar location is awesome, 33rd and 7th. We were able to go outstide and do the whole countdown and see thw ball drop. Very cool. Then we get bounced from the bar because of the Frenchmen, and we move to, of course, and Irish bar. Can't go to NYC without hitting an Irish bar. Go there see some friends, learned some new ways to make out from my friends making out everywhere in the bar. Eventually we make it back to New Jersey. On the way, I'm talking to the guy who went to SLU and I throw out the first name of of someone I can think of from high school who went there also. Jeff Till, who so happens to be the guy's fraternity brother. Damn small world. I get to find out what Jeff was called in college, and it would be Tilldo, that's DAMN funny. Got back to my friend's apartment about at 6am. I love those nights where you go out in the City for more than eight hours. It's fabulous.

In the morning I wake up and read some of Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason and think a little about my past year. One of my friends talks about boys in terms of Mark Darcys and Daniel Cleavers. She's a Daniel Cleaver type, I definately lean towards the Mark Darcy types. Where is my Mark Darcy? Where is the guy who will love me, "just as I am" or take me off to California or save me from prison in Thailand? Where is he? To affirm my need for Mark Darcy, I saw The Importance of Being Ernest today. Jack/Collin Firth playing the guitar and singing. Oh my. Yes, yes, unattainable ideals and all, but a girl's gotta dream.

Well, have a fabulous new year and hope you rung it in with as much excitment as I did mine.

I wish I could have kissed Fugo today....