New years eve was spent in Rhode Island. Providence to be exact. Mr. G and I drove down and arrived at our dear friends' too-cute-for-words house in the middle of the afternoon. We would have been earlier, but we made the mistake of stopping at a Taco Bell in northern Mass. $14 and 45 minutes later we were back on the road. Note to self: fast food is bad.
We had dinner reservations for 5pm. Because we are 94 and need the early bird special. We ate in the Little Italy neighborhood, and yes, as a matter of fact I did have the best meal of my life. This pasta was so good it might make me move to Providence, RI just so I can eat it whenever I want.
We got back to the too-cute-for-words house by about 7:33. Being that Laura (said friend) is my soul mate, she immediately uttered the words that I was longing to hear: "ok, so does this mean we are home for the night? We aren't going out again? I can put on my PJ's?" Before Mr. G or Laura's new fiance Kyle could respond with "No, lame-ass, get yourself pumped, we are going out, it is New Years Eve!" I shouted "YES! PJ TIME!"
By 10:30 Laura was asleep on the couch. Kyle was about to brew some coffee. Mr. G and I were drinking wine and dozing off. We barely managed to stay up until midnight, but somehow we mustered our strength and battled onwards. At midnight we watched the ball drop, popped a quick bottle of champagne, kissed, and hit the hay.
Happy 2011. We really know how to celebrate.
With the new year comes resolutions. As usual, mine is to lose weight. (I will start with giving up Taco Bell). I already threw out the chocolate chip cookies in our house. And the inhumane amounts of enchiladas left over from dinner last night. I know it is bad to throw away food, but Mr. G cannot eat the enchiladas because I made the mistake of putting 6 (oops) jalapenos in the sauce. And I cannot eat those leftovers for lunch every day. 1) I would have an ulcer and 2) I would be the size of a house. Which is the opposite of losing weight. Unless the house is a doll house. I could handle that. So from now on, I will be eating healthy, tracking my calories, and hitting the stupid gym 5 times a week until I am so small that my old nickname, Scrawny Shauni, is relevant again. Or at least until I am no longer house sized. I see Weight Watchers in my future...