Ringing Out 2008

There was nothing really wrong with 2008. It was (overall) a good year for me. Yet I found myself just wanting it to be over.

By all accounts 2008 was a pretty good year for me. I made more money than at any other time on my life (for whatever that’s worth). I started a couple of very cool creative ventures. I met some incredibly wonderful people, including my lovely girlfriend Katherine.

Yet toward the end of it, thanks to an uncertainty in the economy of a publishing industry ripe with bad news, I found myself just waiting for 2008 to be over.

And so, with that in mind, I was really looking forward to a party being thrown by my friends Amanda, Jen and Holly of The Lost Girls. Well, not enough to actually leave my house on time. It wasn’t my fault. No, it was Rod Serling and his talent for storytelling. We were glued to the TV screen, watching a Twilight Zone marathon. To my delight, this delay would actually work in our favor.

The bus to the PATH train was virtually empty, as was the train. I fully expected the ‘F’ train to at least be crowded, but no. In fact, the entire trip took a mere forty five minutes and we walked in to Jen and Amanda’s place just in time for the first round of Jello shots. Some were blue, some red. I found a purple one. It was a sign that this would be a good night.

Faces smiling and laughing. Music blaring. Drinks flowing. There was food too, but I was too busy liquefying myself to eat anything solid. I was clued in to the coming of midnight as the screams counting backward grew louder. Katherine made her way to me from the kitchen and before we knew it, 2008 was over.

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As noisemakers rang, couples kissed and friends embraced, the funk that seemed to rule me these last few weeks drifted away, replaced by a strange optimism. I don’t usually get all wishy-washy and new year, new you-ish, but somehow things are different this year. Recent run ins with my doctor, career concerns and uncertain possibilities collided in my head to somehow inspire hope.

I was floating high on a cloud of joyous silliness for the rest of the night. And it was a good thing too because the trek home would be a bit more challenging than the trip here. Thankfully, we took a car service to the PATH station on 33rd street. To call it crowded doesn’t do the scene justice. We were bristles in a brush. Standing by the shear force of friction from those standing around us.

Once off the train in Hoboken, the taxi stand looked like an outdoor concert. It was nearing 5:00AM. We were tired and hungry. We decided to go to the nearby Spa Diner instead of fighting the crowd for a ride. A cheeseburger for me, English muffin for Katherine, spilled soda, strewn fries, crossed eyes. It was a long overdue dizzy meal and when we were done, the crowd outside was gone. We hopped into a cab and were on our way home to sleep and remember this night.

See Also:
Photo Gallery
The Lost Girls

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