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
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
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.