New Years Eve was an absolute success. My lipstick stayed bright red, despite all the smooching, and my dance moves were at least a 5 out of 10, despite my inherent inability to walk properly in heels. The night was celebrated with joy, laughter, fun, great friends, and good food. It was total perfection.
I danced until I could barely feel my toes. I drank one too many gin and tonics, ate early morning street meat, then passed out until I was woken by the bright sun beaming through the blinds, and a mouth drier than the Sahara desert. Feeling as bad as I did and lacking any real motivation to move, I was very excited when later that day my in laws surprised me with a meal fit for kings.