Two Words

New Years Eve is one of those holidays that I always hope for more than I get from. I've had some good ones, but by and large it's a holiday that always ends up (in terms of the party) falling a little short -- going all the way back to the time the entire tribe got together in John Spruill's North Shore beachhouse in Oahu to ring in the Millennium (money and ..other things kinda got in the way and I wasn't able to go -- a decision I still regret to this day).
Not that good things haven't happened to me over the years on this night.
Two years back NYE marked the first night j and I really started talking to each other in earnest (which, save for the fact that we were only about 500 yards apart at separate parties and didn't know it -- was exceptionally hot).

But kinda like the phone call from Hawaii that night when all of my friends took a moment to try to include me in the festivities at least a little bit, thinking back to those messages only seems right now to serve as an unintentionally bittersweet reminder that it's another holiday I'll be spending by myself.

To make things worse, this was a year that I had tried to put together grand plans for the evening -- starting with my intentions to head up to New York to hang out Satorical and ring in the new year in the big apple, to the most recent plan B, which was to head down to Orlando to mosh it up with Sevendust up to and well past the moment the clock struck midnight.

But when you figure in the double whammy of the Christmas spending crunch and what will surely be an inflated car rental/repair bill just to get my Mustang out of the shop -- all of these things became just a little bit more than I could do, especially considering the fact that I still have to go to work the following day.
Which leaves me with plan always (which I probably don't even have to say at this point) -- Endo Exo.
Here's the odd thing though. Despite the fact that I'm always there and have been for years and years -- I've actually never celebrated New Years there. New Years always ended up being a private party type night for me in the past -- partially out of concerns for safety (who the heck wants to drive around on a night like that) but mainly because most bar scenes on New Years are nothing short of nightmares, filled with jammed up drink pricing, bad music, and people who seem more bent on self-destruction than having a good time.

But this time around it seems like home base is probably gonna be my best play, especially considering the fact that it's starting to feel like the regular crew that works there and enables the majority of my debauchery is getting ready to move on to greener pastures, and this might just be a last hurrah of sorts.

But that doesn't mean it can't be fun -- especially considering the flyer/invite I just got in my email featuring the names of the 20 or so DJ's that will be spinning tunes and a list of the drink specials they'll be having -- all of which basically pales in comparison to the little blurb at the bottom of the card that's got me really excited, which consists of just two little words:
Ice Luge.
[Listening to:    The Network"Supermodel Robots" ]