New Year's Eve and it's hard to believe
another zodiac has gone around.

While you drank yourself high on hoping
and watched the ceiling spin from the ground.

Counting down from ten it's time
to make your annual prayer.

Secret santa in the sky
when will I get my share?

Then you tell yourself
what you want to hear.

Cause you have to believe.

This will be my year.

This will be my year...Semisonic


Go Ahead Punk: E-Mail Little Squaw @ squawpunch@hotmail.com

AIM: gimletgurl7 (Remember when she used to be here?)

Sunday, February 01, 2004

So Saturday night Gilly and I drive into the city. We were going to Bowlmor which is in Greenwich Village which is downtown which in general is a pain in the ass to navigate. We come in through the Holland tunnel and don't know which end is up. Since the Trade Center buildings are gone it's difficult to figure what's North and South. They were a huge point of reference. But we had plenty of time and were very patient. Lots of, "Okay where are we?" sort of conversations. For example,

"Isn't that the court house where Martha Stewart is being tried?"

"Remember that basketball court? It's the one were we always think we're going to be shot when we walk by it in the morning."

"I once got drenched standing on that corner on my way to a Ween show. I think the show was at Sweet Basil's or was it The Bitter End? I forget."

"ARRRRGGGHHH!!! Slow down! We don't want to hit anyone!"

"Is that a hooker?"..."No her legs are too thin..."

"Ohhhh, a store named Got to Knit!!!! I've got to go there!!!"

So we find a parking garage with an entrance remniscent of a Hobbit hole and we pull the car in and then feel trapped because we have to wait for the guy and we're not entirely certain that he even works there.

We park and walk to the joint. At one point we start to jaywalk then Gill stops abruptly leavning me charging right into traffic and yet he yells at me! What a rough start.

We get to the place and get piled into an elevator with all sorts of strangers. It's an old fashioned elevator with a guy running the lever. Now I used to not mind that sort of thing, but I was stuck in an elevator for at least two hours with nine of my co-workers a couple of years ago in a our SVP's apartment building. We had to be saved by the NYC Fire Dept. and had to walk through the adjacent elevator shaft to get out. They didn't even send cute firemen! And trust me, there are some very cute firemen in NYC. Plus, they wear their names on their back which makes it easier to pick out your favorites like, "Oh, yes Fireman O'Brien is just my type. Wowza."

Anyway we get shuffled in. The place is packed and loud and then we find our party. (We had three lanes reserved)...Open bar, snacks, etc...for two hours. We all play. Gilly totally got his swerve on for the last game. Well the clock is ticking down to the end of our open bar so people start loading up. I mean getting four drinks at a time. Gill couldn't believe it. He thought that his British co-workers were bad but this was crazy. I've always said I works with some serious drinkers.

At this point the birthday girl is lit and the rest of the crowd similarly so. So we make our way to the roof? Yes the roof. Apparently there's a bar on the top of the building called "Pressure." Why? Because it has one of those dome roofs. Like the Carrier Dome and thus it's held up with "pressure." One benefit being that it's much cooler up there. The fact that you can't smoke in NYC anymore is wonderful in cases like these. We snatched up an area of three couches and hung out. We got a lot of evil looks for occupying that space so long. But f'em.

Okay, first thing. Apparently there used to be a big Twister board built into the floor with a spinner on the wall. It's gone now. My guess is that it was an insurance risk what with drunk people falling on their heads and puking and such. Secondly it cost $26 AN HOUR for a pool table. How crazy is that? Thirdly, the DJ sucked to some extent. By the time I was able to locate him (one room over) I was ready to put a request in. I walk up on his little pedestal and asked to hear "Toxic" and "Hey Ya." "I don't take requests!!!" He barks. Whatever dude.

So we're dancing and drinking and it's all sorts of funny. And the birthday girl is all sorts of crazy and the men are watching all the girls dance together and then the birthday girl starts talking about last year's Christmas party and how she molested me.

"Molested me?" You ask? Because well, it seems to happen at those things. Last year I wore a cute red, hooded, zip-up shirt with bell sleeves and a pair of tight jeans. Standard Holiday party wear given the nature of the party (lots of people spilling drinks). Anyway, we're dancing and the birthday girl decided to pull my zipper down. Boy, wasn't she surprised to see that all I had on was a bra underneath. She was MORTIFIED. Tee hee.

Last night she had a zip up sweater on, but a shirt on underneath. It was silly none the less. Thank goodness last night I had my bowling outfit on i.e. a little charcoal grey ringer with Oscar the Grouch on it that read, "Heavy Metal" and a pair of not tight jeans.

I think that there were a lot of digital photos taken that could be very controversial if someone didn't know that they were all jokes. I do believe that my hands were placed on the birthday girls breasts. BUT in my defense she grabbed my chest a few times earlier in the evening. Gil had a great time watching it all.

One funny conversation was about an attendee that either doesn't know he's gay or he doesn't have any intention of admitting it. One piece of proof being the fact that one person was doing a total stripper dance about two inches from his head and he didn't even look at her! Didn't even blink an eye!

AND the DJ did play my songs. IN A ROW! Love love love. For some reason I love "Toxic." Mostly because whoever mixed it did an amazing job with the music. Britney is fast over taking Madonna in the dance song market. I can't say that I mind it. I mean I don't want to hear Britney sing, because admittedly she does it very poorly but her songs are great to dance to. She's surrounded by some very talented producers.

We ended up driving the birthday girl and her sister home because for some strange reason they planned on taking the train. We ended up getting home around 2:30AM...oh boy...we had a great time.

P.S. So maybe someone on the SBowl Halftime show who's related to even scarier person being accused of a certain horrible crime at the moment, well maybe she doesn't get skinny from diet and exercise? And maybe you'll notice how thin she is? And maybe I've been told by very reliable sources that she once again had 80 lbs. of fat sucked out of her and for the first time, she really had two ribs removed? But again maybe I am speculating and maybe I am not.
posted by JustKeepMum on 5:51 PM