Hello friends!

Happy belated New Year! As usual, I am late. But I’m OK with that. You might not be OK with that. And I’m OK with that, too. I’m OK with a lot of things, really.

I am back in New York now. I flew out last night at 9 pm and landed this morning at 5 am. OMG death. Then I decided to be “bad” and splurge for a cab ($53 after tip OUCH) despite my New Year’s resolution to SAVE THE CASH MONIES. So already 2009 is full of broken promises and shattered dreams (shattered dreams, feel like I can run away, run away). But there were no yellow cabs at that Ricky Retardo hour, so as I was going outside there were all these gypsy cab hawks asking if I wanted a cab and one of them actually grabbed my luggage from my hands “I will take you! I will take you!” and I was like “Don’t you dare grab my bag, it’s not polite” and shooed him. And suddenly I became like the biggest Courtesy Cop ever. But dude, don’t grab people’s shit! I mean, come on.

I spent New Year’s eve with friends from New York actually. Marco and Lizzie were visiting and staying at The Standard downtown, which they should just rename The Doucheturd. SO MUCH DOUCHE. Normally it’s kind of douchey but on New Year’s eve it becomes Douche Central. Marco pointed out it’s like we were hanging out in the Meatpacking District, something you couldn’t pay me to do. Really, if you said, hey Annie I will give you $53 to hang out in the Meatpacking District tonight, I’d say no. Then I’d stick a shiv in your gut and steal your $53. And let’s be honest, $53 would buy you like 2 drinks. Anyway we were not slutty enough or twenty-one enough to be hanging out there. There was a girl wearing something that only had one side. Like just the front. It was like she was wearing a napkin around her neck, it was grotesque and seeming impossible. I was wearing jeans and I felt like I was wearing too much pants. Too much pants! Oh yes, such a thing is possible!

We ate in Koreatown for “King’s court” style dinner, which is an awesome way of saying food just keeps coming at you until you want to die (of happiness, of overeating, of flavor, of soju that tastes like “kissing your grandmother” as Dan put it) and the went to HMS Bounty for drinks. I love that bar for no particular reason other than it’s old skool, charming L.A. Good times, people, good times.

So normally on New Year’s day I spend it with my entire extended family and we bow for bucks and play New Year’s games. But now we don’t get bucks, which makes hanging out with family much less profitable. I’ve written about this before, in the book, the one over there in the sidebar. I normally show up to my aunt’s incredibly hungover and wanting to die. So I kind of prepped myself for a day of answering why I wasn’t married/with child/a millionaire/a doctor and then my mom said, hey, sorry to do this to you, but I think we’re canceling the new year’s stuff. Your father’s kind of sick and your aunt is too tired to cook for 3000 cousins. And suddenly it was like a major GET OUT OF JAIL FREE AND HERE IS A NEW FRYING PAN AND A SALAD SPINNER. Stoke city! I went back to sleep.

Micah and I were at some vegan restaurant (YES VEGAN. AND DELICIOUS.) and we were sitting next to two dudes on a man-date/broppointment and one guy was all stoked for the waffle special and I was like oh they stop serving breakfast at 11 am. The time is 3! And when he overheard this it looked like I had kicked his dog in the nuts. Like how dare you ruin this moment. Don’t you hate that? Breakfast should be served all day all the time. Like, wtf. It’s even easier to make than dinner, what’s wrong with people?

I already miss my L.A. friends. Didn’t even get to see everyone. I hate when that happens. Also if you managed to reach the end of this post you deserve a cookie. Mail me your address, I will send you a cookie. No joke. Do it.

Happy 09!

Also, I decided that in 2013 I will start high fiving again. I stopped in 2003 and Micah and I decided that a decade without high fiving sounded about right. So there you go.

This entry was posted on Friday, January 2nd, 2009 at 3:48 pm and is filed under Happy Birthday or Whatever, NYC, family, food, lessons learned, shame, travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.