It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m sitting in my warm house. I’m in a sweatshirt (but it’s not a ratty one), some jeans, and my fuzzy Crocs. Chip had a friend over for a bit (he’s gone home), Spouse is in his den, and Princess is at her Godmom’s for a party (we’ll pick her up shortly after 12).
We’re (obviously) not party animals. But that’s okay I guess. I was talking to Crem earlier and he asked if we had any big plans. I was like “yeah, talking to you is my excitement for the evening.” (Well, that and seriously declutterng my computer files). He’s home with his two fuzzy blankets. All is well and all is warm.
So, for a few moments to see what’s going on in the real world, I turn on Dick Clark’s Rocking New Year’s Eve. There are one MILLION people in Times Square in New York, rockin’ in the New Year. One MILLION people.
I have never been one of the “cool kids.” I never felt it necessary to follow the crowd.
But seriously — is there something they know that I don’t. It’s 20 degrees with a wind chill of 2 degrees and there are people that have been OUTSIDE for HOURS.
So, am I missing something? Or are they just crazy.