January 1st what?

Nothing says New Years like spending the evening with one's nearest and dearest, enjoying good company...good food...good drink...and then making a panicked exit out of the bar at 2am because of the impending feeling that one is going to vomit...

Which does indeed come to pass, after a brief and prematurely terminated cab ride, on 18th Street, outside of a bar called, appropriately, Splash.

And then happens again, after a second unsuccessful cab ride, at the corner of 37th and 8th Avenue (that's right, the one right smack dab in the heart of empty, desolate Times Square).

And then again, for the next two hours, into the comfortable safety of one's own toilet.

And then, after a fitful, shivering night on the couch, again at 1:30pm.

Oh, and again at 3pm*.

Lucky is the future bride, however, who can accomplish all of the above under the kind and sympathetic and McDonalds-fetching eye of her betrothed.

The good news is that today -- the first true day of 2006 for this lucky bride-to-be -- has been marked by the most auspicious of omens, my new favorite show, Rollergirls, which the entire free-thinking world should DVR right this very minute.




That, plus the fact that M. and I chose the day before my downward spiral to make a final, thrilling registry run-through at Crate & Barrel.


*there is a reasonable excuse for the above involving an unfortunate mixture of 10 glasses of (free) cheap champagne, a little tequila, some Sesame Chicken and supposedly routine antibiotics.