Say, I haven't talked to you all year.
Guess who is on a roll today? A funny funny roll?
I left my goddam phone at Ned's house, so now you can't see the quality photos I took from last night when we were partayying on new year's rockin' eve. Hey, what'd they do without Dick Clark this year? Did they have Ryan Seacrest? Because that saddens me.
I did take one picture of me here on the webcam before I left last night, and apparently my new year's resolution is to smile as fakely as possible. This almost looks like someone is ramming something cold up my nethers.
Ned and I got invited to go to TinaDoris', and also to go to a party one of HIS friends was attending, but first we went to dinner at a highfalutin' restaurant. In fact, it was the restaurant where Ned had the grouper in May that he still talks about the way some men might discuss the night they slept with Carmen Electra or something.
1999 called.
The point is, they'd decorated the place all up in gold, black and silver balloons (Why are gold, black and silver the official colors of new year's eve?) and everyone was dressed up, and it was lovely, and also I'm hoping you've girded your loins. I really do. Because Ned?
Enjoyed his soup.
"What's your soup tonight?" he asked, and when the woman said sweet potato or whatever the hell--and how bad of a middleagedwomanfriend am I that I don't know, because as you are about to see, it's not like he never touched on the subject again. "Well, we have chicken with rice and sweet potato--"
Before she even finished with that second soup, Ned threw his menu in the air and sort of leapt up. "THE SWEET POTATO! I WANT THE SWEET POTATO SOUP!"
The sort-of-scared-at-this-point waitress scurried away to get the soup, and Ned leaned over to me. "Do you remember when I got this soup?"
"Hunh. Well, I, you know, I..."
"IT WAS THE BEST GODDAMN SOUP I'VE EVER HAD! GODDAMMIT, THAT WAS GOOD SOUP!" Then he went on to list for me where we were when he had the SECOND-best soup of his life, and I am sorry to tell you he even touched on the third and fourth runners-up. I am not kidding you.
"On new year's eve when I was 19, I was visiting my father in Dallas, and we went to a really fancy restuarant. My father bought me a really cool '40s red dress to wear, and there was a phone at every table, which in 1984 was a big deal," I told Ned.
"What'd you have to eat?" he asked. Honest to god. He asked me that.
"...I, um, wow, it was--"
"GODDAMMIT!" Ned's soup arrived. "Oh my GOD! You've GOTTA try this soup! GodDAMMIT"!
Okay, truth be told, it WAS really good. Very rich and buttery and flavorful, but it wasn't performing sex acts on me the way it was with Ned.
"I never want this soup to END," Ned said. It's his go-to line when he likes his food.
I had a lovely salmon, in case you were worried sick, and be sure to ask me in 2040 what I had last night, because surely I will be able to rattle that right off.
It took me 16 hours to figure out the math, right there, comparing 1984 to 2012 and then to how far in the future I'd have to go to have the same amount of time pass. I still have no real idea if I did it right.
The point is, after dinner it was already near 11:00, and the thought of driving to a party with every drunk on planet Earth out and about seemed less than appealing. So we went to the fancy restaurant/bar across the street from Ned's apartment, which was packed with, like, the best-looking dressed-up young people you've ever seen. It was like the cast of 90210 was celebrating the new year, minus Andrea Zuckerman. Andrea Zuckerman looked like a middle-aged woman in high school, which means I guess technically I was the Andrea Zuckerman of that crowd, which officially makes me despondent.
"Who ARE these good-looking people?" I asked Ned, who was writing a sonnet to his soup on a napkin.
Eventually, it was midnight, and we all screamed and yelled and looked good, and Ned kissed his soup, and after a bit this man sidled up to the bar. He had fuschia lip prints on his face, which was sort of cute.
"I'VE HAD THREE BOTTLES OF [insert what sounded like expensive wine here]!" he said to me. "AND I.AM.DRUNK." He smiled at Ned and me. It was probably Ned's I Heart Sweet Potato Soup tshirt that warmed his heart.
"I DON'T KNOW YOU TWO, BUT I WANNA WISH YOU A VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR. MAY THE WORST THAT HAPPENED TO YOU IN 2012 BE THE BEST THAT HAPPENS TO YOU IN 2013." He shook hands with Ned and ambled away.
We stared at each other for a minute, reviewing that statement.
"That's terrible," said Ned.
"I know! I gotta get divorced all over again THIS year! And IT'LL BE THE BEST PART!"
So that bodes well for my year.
Anyway, I hope you all had a good new year's eve. May the best soup you had in 2012 be the worst soup you have in 2013.
Goddammit.
