This meant two things to me. Firstly, I thanked God it was still 2009, because that kind of weather won't fly with me in 2010. The holiday's are over and it's time for spring! (Where's this global warming people keep promising me?) Anyway secondly, it meant a fresh start. I always feel like when it snows, everything is wiped clean and looks new and peaceful. I couldn't think of a better way to wake up to a day of symbolically preparing for a new beginning than looking out my window at an empty canvas.
(That empty canvas will soon be painted with the urine of homeless men)
New Year's Eve is a time for reflection...before getting blindly drunk in an effort to erase the previous year from existence. Unfortunately Facebook won't automatically delete any photos of said previous year at midnight of New Years Day, so I still know that there was a 2009 because of the 87 tagged photos of me holding martini glasses and Solo cups. But I'll be damned if despite the "downs" of the previous year those pictures didn't capture some pretty amazing "ups".
Like the pictures of my friends and I taking shots in OCMD in August, the night that I fell, skinny-dipped, threw up, and showered myself off with practically no memory of the first through third things listed there, and absolutely none of the last. Well, alright, I'm not totally convinced thaaat particular part of the weekend was an "up", but overall we had a great time.
Oh! And earlier that summer when we had our celebrity encounter at one of my best friend's bridal showers. Her mother-in-law had thrown her a beautiful party at a golf club near the puppy mill where Kate Gosselin churns out children, and who of all people should walk through the door with an "oh yeah. You're seein' it. This is hap-pen-ing." look on his face while our backs were turned but the much-loved Jon Gosselin? He came. We saw. And many grandmotherly-aged women attempting to operate digital cameras definitely conquered.
Mmm, and how could I forget later that same summer at that same friend's Hamptons bachelorette party? The naked man playing cards, the champagne pong, the bachelorette party t-shirts with "Hamptons" spelled incorrectly, the poolside lounging-- we have pictures of it all. Unfortunately, there is also photographic evidence of some extremely drunk 20-somethings getting graphic with penis-shaped balloons, all of us dancing like wild women during a vodka-fueled power hour, wearing the pink streamers (that 24 hours previously we'd painstakingly decorated the entire house with) as substitute boas, and me, trashed and positively hysterical (and so, appearing downright giddy) with a stripper laying across our laps in a group shot. However, among the weekend's attendees were a psychologist, a social worker, and a lawyer, so many, many pictures have been untagged to protect employment.
And who could forget the wildest, the craziest times that weren't ever photographed? If you think I'm referring to the infamous Hammer incident...you'd be right! While my long-suffering relationship with EB came to a close in early 2009 and LE and I broke up in a taxi cab on Halloween while he was high out of his fucking mind, I think 2009's REAL "Man of the Year" was hands-down The Hammer, if for no other reason than he is burned so deeply into the minds of my friends and myself that he will never ever be forgotten. (It also helps that he is in town on vacation and texting the crap out of my phone to meet up.) Hell, he might even be the "Man of the Decade"...we can take a formal poll later.
Ah, but the incident. No, it's not one I've ever shared here before. It's a...special one...one that I needed to reveal when just the right chord was struck. Allow me to paint a picture: It was an unseasonably warm spring day. Hammer invited me out to dinner at a nice restaurant in the Meatpacking District and we grabbed a drink nearby at a fun outdoor hotel bar first. When the check came, I almost offered to pay and then thought better of it. I had paid partially for and/or brought something for our last three dates, he invited me out to do all of this, that night was on him. Plus, at the time he was about to embark on his surgical career and I was still mostly unemployed. We went to dinner. He ordered appetizers and a bottle of champagne. As per usual we talked mostly about him, he made some bad jokes, got none of my good ones, and blankly stared at me with Zoolander's Blue Steel face for the majority of the evening. When the check arrived at the restaurant he took it, looked at it, and told me I was paying for half. He always made awkward jokes like that so I laughed. He laughed too and took out his card and put it in the book. A few minutes later, the waiter walked by and attempted to take the check away and Hammer stopped him and told him we weren't ready yet. The waiter walked away and Hammer looked at me again and said "So, do you want to put down your card or just give me cash?" I, still not getting it, laughed again for a second and then realized "oh shit" and sloooooowly reached for my wallet, waiting for him to stop me. And yes I know I should've said no way-- he invited me, he ordered everything, and a man should never TELL a woman to pay for herself-- but I was so caught off-guard, I didn't know what to do. We "went dutch" and left.
(By the way, I've been to Holland. The only thing people went halfsies on there was weed and prostitutes)
The following day, Hammer was finding out his residency placement and I'd promised to go out and celebrate with him. After the previous night though, I pondered my obligation towards him. My friends and I tried to rationalize his rudeness but couldn't really make it seem right. Eventually though, because I am a total schmuck, I felt guilty and decided to go out anyway. A friend of mine (who introduced us, remind me to thank her later) and I went out for some drinks that night and then decided to meet up. When we got there...well, he was drunk. He wasn't fall-down drunk though, he functional and introducing me to people, but nonetheless he was in celebration mode. Good for him. We hung out and drank for several hours until it was time to head out. He took one last congratulatory shot with his friends and we jumped in a cab back to my place. Hammer passed out immediately, I went to sleep about 30 minutes later, roughly 2:30AM.
The next thing I knew, it was around 5AM and it sounded like someone was pouring out a glass of water on my hardwood floor. I groggily rolled over and HOLYFUCK it appeared as if The Hammer was standing at the foot of my bed and peeing onto my floor and TV stand. In less than a second I had the light on, the covers yanked back, and was standing beside my bed screaming his (real) name as yes, he waaaaas in fact standing at the foot of my bed, peeing all over. My shrieking his name did not only fail to wake my roommates (thanks girls, glad nothing serious ever happened), but also to wake him from his sleep-peeing trance. He simply turned towards the noise and proceeded to re-aim his stream all over my comforter and the clothes I had on the floor. Then, he turned back to his original spot and finished up. I was so angry that I ran into my bathroom, grabbed the toilet paper roll, slammed it at him, and yelled at him to clean up his goddamn mess. Hammer stared at me blankly, put the roll down, and promptly got back into bed and fell asleep.
I cleaned up after him and then laid in bed fuming until morning, unable to relax. Around 9AM, Hammer came-to and tried to snuggle with me. I think I almost broke his ribs, I pushed him away so roughly. When he asked what was the matter, I replied "you PISSED all over my floor last night!" He tried to apologize, I wouldn't hear of it, and pretty much threw his ass out back to Hoboken. Hammer texted and emailed a bunch the next week, at first seemingly sorry then getting more upset with ME that I didn't care to see him again. At no point though, did he appear embarrassed. This was apparently not the first time he'd done this late-night "pee"p show. $100 in cleaning bills later, I still couldn't walk barefoot on that spot.
There is a lot of good I'm leaving behind in 2009, but I know that will be repeated and improved upon in the coming year. There is a lot of bad I'm leaving behind as well, and I've left no forwarding address. However, memories are memories and that year of trials and tribulations (a psychotic roommate and her even crazier mother, two bad breakups, a golden shower, being unemployed for the first six months, student loans going into repayment, Swine Flu) have made me a stronger woman. A woman ready to take on all of the crazy times and positivity that 2010 is bringing my way.
And on that note, I've missed you all while I've been away. I figured I'd take some time off since we're all busy during the holidays, but now we're back in action. Strap yourselves in...I have a feeling 2010 is about to be a wild ride!
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