New Year's is the only other time (besides under the misletoe) that it's perfectly acceptable to kiss a rando. It doesn't take long to figure out the desperados closest to you. Ya know, the ones who came to NYE without (God forbid) someone to kiss when the clock strikes 12 -- aka the poor planners.
They have shifty eyes that are frequently scanning the room for potential prospects. Be careful not to make direct eye contact. They pace around a lot. They try to stand off in corners thereby alerting everyone else in the room of their availability -- as if they really needed to. They've always got their game faces on and their lips pursed (part of the enticement?).
I always wonder if (by some miracle) their plan works, and they manage to snag a pair of lips for the countdown... what's the conversation like afterwards? Obviously, you both realize that you're desperate enough to kiss a total stranger at the risk of looking like a lone loser (which is pretty loser-ish of you), so how do you talk to your Plan Z?
"Happpppy New Year? So what's your resolution?"
"To have someone to kiss at midnight."
"Oh uhh... Mission accomplished?"
I'm glad I'm no longer in that boat. I always know who I'm going to kiss at midnight.~
Normally on New Year's Eve, I plump down on my sofa, drown myself in ice cream (enjoying my last day of freedom/deliciousness) and watch Ryan Seacrest interview annoying couples on the streets of New York.
I got to bed promptly at 12:10.
This year, I had a fabulous transformation. Grahm and I took a trip to Dallas with our friends as our last hoorah before the move this week and to prove (to ourselves and to the world!) that we aren't another boring married couple with a 10 o'clock bed time (even though we are).
We had such a fun weekend filled with friends, go carts, hilarious conversations, (lots of) hairspray!
Friday night at the Nodding Donkey, a sports bar in Dallas where we watched the Sooners (barely) win their bowl game. What was the name of it again?
Saturday morning, the gals got up and went wedding dress shopping! This is WAY more fun to watch than to do -- for me anyways. I got way too overwhelmed by all the dresses and didn't have a clue what kind I wanted. I was lost in a sea of white. "Do you like lace? Chiffon? Taffeta? Form fitting? Beads? Strapless?" I don't know! I don't know! Bekah had it all down though, and she looked gorgeous (duh) in like every one.
It was pretty funny to watch her consultant trying to pin the dresses to fit her fetus body. All the sample dresses could fit an Orka whale, so she had to have like 897 pins for it not to look like a lacey trash bag on her.
That afternoon we went to SpeedWay and raced go-carts. I was convinced we were all going to die, mostly because Grahm kept ramming everyone with his car. I'm too much of a mom to really get into it, I guess. Hence why I'm not pictured on the winners' stairs.
That night we got ready. Sorry that a poodle died on my head, but ya know -- the higher the hair the closer to God.
We had such a crazy fun night in Dallas. It might just become our new tradition.