Sunday, January 1, 2012

Old 2011- New 2012; Old Friends - New Friends

Enjoyed a sedate, yet sparkly New Year's Eve with

Old friends:
Holly Johns and family whom we met the first day of our kids' school in 1998...and...
New Friends:
Barry and Donna Stephan who moved in last year two doors down.

My last minute decision to have a New Year's Eve party had a hidden sequence I hadn't realized till typing just now, paralleling the night perfectly:

A night where we look past on the old year
and
forward to the New:
old friends - new friends.

At this point some may want to skip the dry personal anecdotes and move down to a slightly more interactive Beatles parody. If you went to the party, keep reading.

Breaking the rule of never practicing new recipes on guests, I served three new dishes: spanakopita, caprese salad and Creme Brulee. After a small adjustment of adding more feta to the second batch of spanakopita, it improved. Thanks to Holly, we had corn chips, homemade chili and wonderful chocolate dipped cookies to round out the New Year's buffet.

A rousing game of white board Pictionary tied up when Shelby Johns and I on opposing teams yelled simultaneously

"SMOG!"
to Donna's skillful sketch of lines in the sky, smoke from a chimney pushed up against a mountain. (My California roots with visions of a rusty San Fernando valley sky should have brought it faster to mind to win). Rather than do a tie-breaker, we amicably ended at a 15 /15 score.

Cody Johns rattled out "Hit the Road, Jack" on piano while we sang along.  Marcus Johns accompanied Shelby's beautiful Mariah Carey-like vocals while others constructed a fire out of 2010's Christmas tree in the patio fire pit. Pyromaniacs that we are, a heart-stopping "FUMP' made us jump as it ignited (couple drops of gasoline does the trick) and scared the daylights out of the new friends.

I justified forcing my Beatles parody of "Yesterday" on my captive guests prefacing that it was appropriate for New Year's and to which some middle-age contemporaries in the room might relate.

You remember the tune...:

Yesterday
All my wrinkles seemed so far away
Now it looks as though they're here to stay
Oh, I believe in yesterday

Suddenly,
I'm not freezing like a used to be
Global warming has come over me
Yes, climate change comes suddenly!

Why I have to grow, I don't know
I couldn't say
Pounds keep piling on
Now I long for yesterday -a -a- ay

Yesterday
Looks were such an easy game to play
Now I pay big bucks to hide my grey
Oh, I believe in Yesterday
Hmm..hm, hm ,hm ,hm ,HM, HMM.

Martinelli's in champagne flutes. Tim switched OFF Lady Gaga singing in her spider-web, black cage-like-hour-glass costume. (NOT how we want to ring in the New Year, thank you.) Then switched back to watch the ball drop and kissed each other at midnight!! Two am bedtime.

On to tomorrow and year 2012 full of newborn, fresh experiences.

Happy New Year my friends!!!

Old and new.

Tell me about your New Year's celebration......

2 comments:

mama cath said...

Happy New Year Angela. Wonderful that you were able to keep your Christmas tree from 2010. I'm assuming it was a faux tree, but it certainly would make good firewood if over a year old.
:-D
In any regard, very fortunate Tim didn't burn the place down.

Jesse Shaw said...

Went to a nearby restaurant called Lil' Frankie's (no affiliation with my Frankies) with Mar and the fam. Enjoyed a great meal of burrata cheese, arugula salad, margherita pizza, and branzino en papillote (in parchment paper), which was almost like watching surgery as the servers opened the paper on our plates. Afterwards we walked through the madness of the city back to Marlee's apartment. Watched the ball drop, heard the drunken-celebratory "5..4...3...2...1...HAPPY NEW YEAR!!" coming from bars through the window, and fireworks going off over the East River. Kissed my girlfriend looking forward to another new year together. Then stood on the fire escape out the window, looking towards the array of buildings uptown, knowing that the party we see every year on TV is just right there...

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