In A New York Minute

When 1987 morphed into 1988, I was a sophomore in high school. I was living on an air force base, smack dab in the middle of the Pacific and loving every minute of it. My older brother and I took advantage of our parents' annual celebration at the Officers Club down the street, and we threw a New Years party- a party that should have been its own John Hughes film. A party our respective spouses HATE hearing about because we constantly go on and on and on about how no party could ever top THIS particular party.

Until now. We've been in Orange County for about six months now. Six months of unpacking, adjusting to new schools, hanging out with family, seeing old friends. Not much time left over to make new ones. A month ago, Matt got an invitation from a woman at work. It seems she has this annual New Years party, and was kind enough to include us. 

I bumped into this person at Matt's Christmas party. She seemed very nice, and interestingly, remarked "Oh yes, if you have anyone you would like to invite to my party- just forward them the invitation. The more the merrier." I remember thinking- "Wow. How casual. How unlike my Type-A style of entertaining where I must know the EXACT number of people coming."

It was a New York New Year's themed party. For us west coasters- it's a dream to kick off the new year at 9:00 pacific time and hop to bed early. We got to the party around 6:45pm, kids in tow. The street was wall to wall cars, and their house had a New York City freeway exit sign plastered on the fence.

We walk in, and someone immediately outfits us with new year's hats and necklaces. The entire dining room has been turned into a smorgasbord of Big Apple delights. One table was named "Lower East Side" and featured deli platters of pastrami, corned beef, pickled tomatoes, coleslaw and rye bread. The next food station was Chinatown and I embarrassed myself by eating way too many wontons and chicken mushu. Little Italy had pasta and sausage and peppers. Grand Central station had its own oyster bar. The living room had 4 screens of karaoke. The garage had a ping pong table, foos ball, 2 babysitters and New York pizza. 

There was an open bar. I ordered a lemon drop martini, and it was so strong I immediately felt my chest growing hair. The hostess walked by and I said "Great bartender!" (meaning, holy shit! This guy knows how to make a drink!) She winks and says, "I know! I know! He's just too cute for words! I hired him from www.beautifulbartenders.com!"

They poured some Moet for everyone at 8:45. After watching them pass around horns and get ready to pull the string on the balloons that were being let go from the ceiling, I realized the following:

1. This party was way better than my sucky party in Hawaii in 1988.

2. There was no way in hell I would ever let 100+ people into my home like this.

3. Mushu is one of the best things in the whole wide world.

4. Southern California people name their kids the craziest names. We met a Skye and a Zephyr(?)

Happy New Year everyone. I gotta go. That mushu gave me some serious heartburn.