New Year’s Eve is, without question, the most stress-inducing holiday of the year. Think about it. Figuring out what to wear, what to do, where to go, who to kiss…so much pressure!! Fortunately (or unfortunately), not much changes from year to year. Sure, you’re not having sleepovers with your BFFs and watching *NSYNC ring in January 1st on TRL like you did at thirteen, but the anticipation for midnight’s still there along with the college equivalent of all the same worries. Think I’m wrong? Tell me your December 31st doesn’t look a little like this:
10:00 am– Wake up, check your texts, shoot a few out to see if anyone knows the final plans for the evening (because NYE plans are never final until they’re almost-happening), roll back to sleep.
Noon– Wake up for real this time, but decide clothes are overrated. PJs are the way to go, plus you’re only heading down to the kitchen for some coffee and maybe a bagel. Gotta load up on carbs early.
12:20 pm– Plop down on the couch, cell phone right next to you (still waiting for someone, anyone to know what’s going on), and select from one of the many TV marathons that currently running. Oooh, could that be an episode of Top Chef you missed? Impossible! Guess you better watch and find out.
5:00 pm– Okay, finally! You’ve received word that your selected DD for the evening (poor soul) will start making the pick-up rounds at 9. Then it’s off to some kid named Mike’s house for some pre-partying. Then you’ll be taken to your proper destination to ring in the New Year.
5:03 pm– Wait, did that text say 9? Eff! You’ve gotta start getting ready! What are you gonna wear? Those tights make your legs look chunky, what were you thinking when you put together a mental outfit yesterday? Idiot, idiot, idiot. Jump in the shower, worry about clothes after.
6:00 pm– You just took the longest shower in human history. Shaved, scrubbed, polished, buffed, exfoliated, and did God knows what else to every square inch of your body. Time to sit in front of your closet in a towel and hate on your thighs a little more before ultimately opting for a pair of dark wash jeans.
6:36 pm– Why did you ever think a silver turtleneck was a positive fashion statement? Who let you buy those striped leggings? Is that a jumper in your closet? Are you three? You don’t own anything nice. Just because it’s cheap, Target doesn’t make nice clothes…you need to stop telling yourself that lie. Why is everything polyester!?! Ugh, so looks like it’s going to be that non-descript black top and a pair of dark wash jeans. Again.
6:40 pm– Ooooh! You found a sparkly bracelet shoved in the toe of those black pumps from freshman year. Win!
7:00 pm– Blow your hair dry, straighten it, check it in the mirror and realize you missed an entire chunk of wavy hair down the back. Heat up the straitening iron again. Curse your genes for giving you hideous curls.
7:53 pm– Makeup! To use glitter eye shadow, or to not use glitter eye shadow… Use it! [Editor Note: Glitter eye shadow? Did you forget to put the pregame heavily note in the schedule?!]
8:11 pm– Look at yourself in the mirror, decide tonight is a Spanx night.
8:28 pm– All dressed, wristlet is packed, and you’re cramming some last minute dinner in your mouth. It’s an attractive sight.
8:35 pm– Seconds on the red velvet cake? Eh, why not…you need something to absorb all the booze that’s coming your way.
9:00 pm – Sitting. Waiting. Looking out the window. Holding your phone. No one.
9:08 pm– Send text, “Where are you guys?�� to twelve different people. Get no response.
9:40 pm– Finally a car pulls up and you recognize all your friends crammed in the back seat. Apparently there was a hold up because the first person wasn’t ready in time and then it was just a messy domino effect of wet nails and eyebrows that still needed to be plucked.
10:01 pm– Get to this dude Mike’s house. You’re not really sure who he is…maybe a friend of a friend type thing. The porch is slanted, the front door doesn’t stay closed, and the wood floors are sticky with what you’re hoping is soda. It’s a typical man sty.
10:02 pm– Can we leave yet?
10:04 pm– Can we leave yet, please?
10:05 pm– Someone get you a drink. A strong one.
11:30 pm– Whew, where did that time go? I can’t feel mah tongue. Damn, this jungle juice is really tasty. Wait, weren’t you supposed to be going to your *actual* friends’ place for midnight? Is that your DD…drunk?
11:57 pm– Okay, so looks like you’re not going anywhere. This is it. Aaaaand you’re on your sixth cup of…whatever that is.
Midnight – Who are you kissing? Have you met this young man before? Who cares? Welcome to 2011.