Contrary to my prediction, new years was not a drag (although it may appear that I was, in fact, dressed in drag). The night began with a homemade organic pasta dinner and ended walking five miles in the freezing cold back home from Wawa, only to find that half of my sandwich was missing. I stole beer, complained about shitty music, smoked in someone’s bathroom, danced on a table, spilled cranberry juice on beige carpet, took a load of obnoxious pictures, shared a huge bottle of champagne with enough people that I gargled for five whole minutes this morning, and successfully missed not one, but TWO trains. We also met a twenty-something neurologist from Pakistan who had never been to a house party in the US, got him wasted, and then left him at the party when no cab would take him home. Sonny, if you’re out there somewhere, we’re all sorry.