New Year’s Eve is the ultimate Amateur Night—even worse than St. Patrick’s Day or Halloween. On New Year’s, tens of millions of Americans who are unaccustomed to hard drinking will binge all night like college kids on Spring Break—swarms of besotted humanity clogging otherwise pleasant bars and restaurants, yelling, crying, fighting, stumbling, kissing, barfing, and generally creating a sense of chaos.
The sheer number of revelers—and intensity of their revels—makes New Year’s Eve a kind of logic-free zone, where anything can happen and usually does. You might find a hundred-dollar bill on the street. Or you might be the moron who loses a hundred dollars. You might find yourself in Vegas getting busy with a pretty blonde woman who later turns out to be a transsexual man. These things happen.
Given the hazards, in fact, it’s a wonder any of us get through it alive.” —
Hampton Stevens provides some tips through surviving New Years with all limbs intact.
Read the full article here.
I will without a doubt be generally creating a sense of chaos. That’s my specialty. See: stealing things, punching men, eating meat (literally, people, literally), breaking my ankle, etc.
Freedom, Jonathan Franzen
I feel like I could really like this Walter guy.
After the initial stress of sitting on hold with American Airlines for 2 hours, it hasn’t been too bad so far. Mom buys me dinner, always loses at Scrabble and drives me around. I don’t have to work (that much). And I get more time with THIS:
And less time with this:
(Red Hook, Brooklyn, snow photo via @saipua)
Plus if I went home right now, I have absolutely no food in the house and very little access to food. I doubt a cab would even take me from the airport to my house, and this picture tells me that the bus is NOT running.
Oh well. STRANDED.
1. New York
I’m obviously really pulling for Newark and New York so I can stay where I am, but I would not be unhappy with any of these choices. The next preference level expands to all of the east coast and Chicago and few fun places like LA and Hawaii. I ranked all rural and super cold cities last as least preferable.
I find out on January 18.
Obviously, made for Buningman.
There are some days where I am reasonably certain that I am a smart, responsible WOMAN that makes mostly good and rational choices.
Then there are others where I think I AM THE SMARTEST, MOST CAPABLE WOMAN IN THE WORLD WHO MAKES ONLY RIGHT CHOICES EVER AND HAS NEVER BEEN AND NEVER WILL BE WRONG ABOUT ANYTHING I SAY OR DO.
It’s when I get cocky that I do things like Google “Fix radiator air vent so it doesn’t blow water all over my shit” (after Googling “What is the thing on my radiator that is blowing water all over my shit?”) and think that reading like 15 Yahoo! answers about radiator maintenance makes me an expert who should immediately crouch down in her business dress (pencil skirt and cardigan, hellooooo boooyyysss) and try to rig that shit herself… even though her landlord is on his way to fix it RIGHT NOW.
Oh yeah, in case you were wondering, this is what an air vent looks like:
It’s usually attached to a radiator.
What else can you ask in life?