New Year's Eve: Kicking it Law School

I count myself lucky that I made it to Jimmy’s totally swanky New Year’s Eve par-tay alive. My flight from Honolulu to Minneapolis was uneventful. But, after I get on the plane at the Minneapolis airport, (a metropolis of fat pallid pasty slow-moving people), the doors close, and the cabin immediately smells like burnt popcorn. The pilot’s butterscotch smooth voice comes over the intercom: “Ladies and gentlemen, seems we’re having some engine trouble here, we’re getting our inspector in here right now.” Right, engine trouble. Because it’s not as if we’re flying into a snowstorm (oh yeah, December 31^st, 2008 - Boston gets whomped with snow).

To be fair the engine inspector shows up fairly quickly. The “inspector” is wearing an orange vest and a mullet, and he’s carrying a big wrench that looks like a stage prop (no, I am not joking, not one iota), and he starts yukking it up with the pilot and rummaging around, making noise, banging stuff, and generally alarming the first class customers. In about 90 seconds or less (it look me longer to get a plain chicken sandwich at BK in the airport), he clears the plane for take off, and I think to myself that some man in an orange ugly vest and a mullet has elevated me and the other passengers to a segment on that night’s news: Engine-trouble ridden plane goes down in Northeaster. Airline asks, what went wrong?

Obviously, the plane makes it. Whatever, don’t make a big deal about it. I know you were concerned. Anyway, fast forward a few hours to New Year’s Eve par-tay at Jimmy Byrne’s place, possibly most chill party host ever. And now I will apologize, this blog is going to read as one big shout out because I missed my friends a lot and it was awesome to see them. Please be warned, this blog entry will not really serve as a dishy tell-all since I have to face all of you in March. For instance this blog won’t tell you who was the drunkest (Sandra) or who was the rowdiest (Becca) or who had the best cleavage (Anna) or the worst outfit on the night (me, pink bra showing through black sweater). So try to pretend like you’re interested in reading:

First, you should know that I always make it a point to travel in style, so I roll up to the event with the ICBU (Irish Car Bomb Unit), a man on each arm, both of whom are equipped with Guinness, Baileys, and Jamison. Okay, so my man, Aaron is on one arm, and then House, Aaron’s best friend is on the other.

A word about House. Man-tastic! He and Aaron go way back, GW college roommates, Ultimate Frisbee teammates. I like to listen to them talk because usually their stories start off something like this:

“Do you remember the time I passed out by the Washington Monuments…”

“Oh man, remember when Big Ben dutch-ovened Little Ben…”

“Hey, you remember our last Body Shots party? When I got hepatitis from the girl’s team…”

Not only does House carry around all the booze for the ICBU, but he comes to the party with a breathalyzer that serves as a fun party trick. He even wears a collared shirt. I love House. House is hilarious.

Upon arriving and assessing all fingers and toes for frostbite, I throw myself upon Sandra to congratulate her and Mike. On one hand, it’s totally baller that the most attractive and normal, functioning couple we know is engaged. But then I begin to worry. Oh, god, now they’re adults. Next comes the beige Volvo and remarks like “well, um, actually it’s going to be a pretty nice little Saturday, we're going to go to Home Depot. Buy some wallpaper, maybe get some flooring, stuff like that.” My worry quickly dissipates as Mike is the first to join House and Aaron in doing an Irish Car Bomb and Sandra, according to House, blows the highest BAC of the night. Okay, so not quite adults yet and that’s a good thing. Whew. But seriously guys, congrats! Way to “ring” in the New Year. I had to, okay? Melissa did it first.

Then I get to maul the luscious ladies of law school: Anna and Melissa!!! Both are looking svelte and sexy. I can’t say anything snarky about them. Otherwise, they’ll beat the crap out of me when they come visit in less than two months (!!). So instead, I’ll pick on their boyfriends. Okay, no real picking on Melissa’s man candy Jimmy or his friend Ben. They’re both hilarious, Ben wore the best tie (1 of 2 on the evening) and Jimmy was our party host, so off limits. That leaves Jeff, Anna’s man pastry. Oh man, apparently, Jeff got New Year’s mixed up with Halloween and came dressed as the campaign manager for John McCain. It’s okay, we had lots of love for the young Republican.

Next up: Jason and Michelle. They’re the newest couple of our friends so they do everything together: Knocking back Irish car bombs. Canoodling on the couch. Sucking at Taboo. Ba-zing! Just kidding, Michelle. We all know who is awful at Taboo. Jason was famously unable to come up with “Jesus Christ” after we gave him the clues: “he was crucified on a cross. He died for our sins. Is also the son of God.”

But wait, who is that goddess chugging champagne from the bottle? Becca! This lovely blond angel is one of Melissa’s roomies from college and she is legendary for many reasons, but for me, Becca is god-like because of our first meeting. She proudly informed that she had consumed liquor she’d found on the T. That may even trump Aaron eating from a bag of chips on the T. It’s too close to call. Becca renews her deity status by trying eat some of Melissa’s cleavage. It’s fine, they’re roommates. They go way back.

Finally there’s Aaron. I’m kinda afraid to take a shot him, so I’ll just say the following two things. First: In response to accusations by the Young Republican, Aaron in fact did several car bombs himself. Second: Yes, he wore a shirt with a pink heart on it, but it also had a zombie on it and yes, he wore jeans that actually “contained” all of his sexiness (much to my disappointment, but probably to the relief of everyone else).

So yes, that was New Years. Intimate, sloppy, champagne-drenched house party full of stories and good times.

On a final note, I also heard that our party hosts, Melissa and Jimmy were gracious enough to finish off all of the remaining champagne after all had departed as part of the no bottle left behind, no party host left standing program. Good work guys!

Happy New Year! Stay tuned for my first annual blogger trivia contest!