I’m usually a pretty positive person, so take me very seriously when I say this: I detest New Year’s Eve. It’s the one night of the year when everyone feels obligated to make an arse of themselves, and when was the last time that turned out well?
Every year, I swear that I’m boycotting it but then I get invited to a bunch of parties by people I vaguely know. Crippled by an inability to say no, I say yes and end up taking transit to go back and forth between parties of people I don’t really have any interest in talking to. Boo-urns, I say.
So this year, I have grand plans. I’m going to stop by Hanson‘s place in the afternoon to play Guitar Hero and meet his fiancee, and then I’m coming home. I’m going to change into my pajamas, pop some popcorn, and eat pudding. On the couch. You are welcome to join me. To the couch part, I mean. It would be rude to invite randoms to Hanson’s place.