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The Old New Year's Eve Fantasy

I'ma do like the retail industry & skip straight past what seems to be current--Chrismahanakwanzukah--& get to the part that I'm anticipating most. Well, not really, but the old fantasy lingers.

When I was a little girl I used to marvel at my mother as she dressed to party on New Year's Eve. I knew that when I grew up I wanted to don sexy party dresses, the sheerest stockings & beautiful shoes like her. #Mamasshoegameproper From witnessing that, it was imprinted in my mind that clearly the most wonderful place to be on New Year's Eve is at a party. Ironically, the only party I've ever worn such a dress to was to a quinceanera.

I think I was 20 when I decided I was old enough to go to parties requiring me to put on my sequenced sequined best. I told my boyfriend at the time what I wanted to do & he was down. The Professor, how I lovingly refer to him now, was down to do anything that showed off another side of me. The idea of me in a slinky party dress was enough to make him agree to anything I wanted. So, I shopped & decided on a black strapless dress with a frilly front split. I passed on the sequins. To go with the dress I bought my 1st pair of ankle strapped heels, stockings ever so sheer, & a few cute accessories. My locs were styled just so. Ma let me spray on some of her fav perfume at the time. I got dressed & sat my young tender self on the sofa to wait...after posing for MANY pictures.

Too much time was passing & I hadn't heard from The Professor. Just as I was getting ready to call him back the phone rang. It was him. Apparently his son's mother decided that their son needed to return to boarding school a day early. I was 20, but I knew 1 of 2 things was goin' down. Either those 2 were still exercising Ex-privileges, or she was disgruntled that he had plans & she didn't & played the kid card. He claims the latter, I didn't care. The end result was still that I was all dressed up & nowhere to go. Boo. Hiss.

Not 1 other year has passed since then where I've made ANY attempt to party on New Year's Eve. I have made a point to be with family, I've shared the night with a great many friends in a safe, home environment, & I've shared the night with my child & the boyfriend who followed The Professor. No sequins, no lace. I've heard all the superstitions about where we should be & who we should be with. I've made the symbolic black eyed peas, the greens, & the cabbage. I've clanked cider, champagne, sparkling wine, juice, & tea mugs at the stroke of midnight. The 1 time I had that fabled midnight kiss was a comedic moment at my sister's spot. It was the culmination of quiet intrigue & a man trying to save himself from the chick on his right who assumed she was a shoe-in. That moment sparked some other things, but I digress.

The point is...1 day, I'd love to be with my love & expressing said love for my love at midnight with a bushel & a peck & hug around the neck, while wearing a beautiful sequence sequined party dress—in silver no less. Or gold. If it's tasteful...I can do gold.

Another year closer to my wish.

Watch me move.

Post Script-debating on coming back to 'kofa my feelings on The Grinch That Stole Kwanzaa, but I'm undecided. Feeling kinda "mehhh..." but I suppose that's the Grinch's fault.

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