Liveblogging NYE December 31, 2006

I know that I put forth the idea that I am a big partier, and I’m always out having fun. That is a misconception. I am at the home of a dear friend, watching the Bears pretend to lose (a girl can dream), as my children and husband and friends play Yatzee in the other room. Yes, I’m drinking Grey Goose, yes we’re doing shots, and yes, we’ll either sleep here or take a cab home. But I’m not in the bathroom of a bar making out with a 22-year-old in between snorting lines of cocaine, so I’m totally ahead of the game.

I love New Year’s Eve. I always hated it when I was younger because I always got in trouble. Since I turned around 22, I stopped going out on NYE, and would sit in my apartment with a case of beer, my cats, and the television. Then I got married and had children, and I realized that it’s fun to sit around in my house with a bottle of Grey Goose, my dogs and my cat, and my children, and my husband, and some friends, and the television. It’s the New Year dawning, people. If I can end 2007 with the wonderful people I’m beginning it with, I’m a winner. That’s all I ask.

Time, and life, is weird. I’m not really sure what to make of it. Every year, seriously, has been better than the one before. So, by the time I’m dead, things should be rockin’.

I’ll be back.

Update, 10:20 p.m.–Okay, so the Packers beat the Bears on NYE. Whatever. Obviously, there was some convoluted and complicated reason for this that idiots don’t understand.

I will say, even as a hard-core Bears fan, that Brett Favre is (possibly was, notice how he “will talk in a few weeks”) an amazing player. A real football player, and I had a little talk with my son about playing the game with intelligence and heart, and I hope he doesn’t write me off as being drunk.

Back later.

Update: yeah. odkay. i broke off the front of Eric’s cabinet/drawer fajke frotnt thing. sorry. i’m making pigs in a blanket.

and we’re rocking out to AC/DC and I think I want to do apnother shot, (stop that, Grace, I’m trying to type)polp

of rumplem8i9nze

‘1 \\

peppermint

blame the 11 year old tryiungt trying to mess with my typing. poooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

pooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooppppppppppp hahahahahahaha shes gone and I can mess up her stupid thingy. Hehehehohohohahaha I got to taste some peppermint aloholic thingy. I tasted WEIRD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I the eleven year old think I deserve a better name than the eleven year old but I better go before i die of messing this up

Her name is Grace.  She’s 11.  She’s way cool, man.yah mon