This’ll separate the tops from the bottoms.

Gasp! This is my 99^th post! I should say something sentimental. But, I bet you’d rather hear about New Year’s Eve.

Most bars in NYC get extended liquor licenses for New Year’s Eve, so they’re open as late as 8am. My plan on Tuesday night was to throw off my sleep pattern so that I’d be all set to Break the Dawn on the big night. Somehow, I got it in my head that I should pre-game for Pieces Karaoke with the Ivy League Crew. I don’t think much happened outside of my getting kind of wasted and not getting any.

Unfortunately, my plan of sleeping in didn’t work at all, but MicHELLe texted me about 5 minutes after my body rejected slumber on Wednesday morning. We met at Macy’s to spend Christmas gift cards, and the whole time, he kept checking out variations on the coat he was already wearing. I try to tell him not to buy cute outerwear. Get something drab and warm that you can throw in a corner at the bar and not have to worry about some jealous queen stealing. And god knows I hate standing in line for coat check.

Who the hell gave me gift cards to Borders? I don’t read, and they don’t sell iTunes gift cards.

By the time we worked our way down to Urban Outfitters (someone at work gave me a gift card… a nice thought, but ugh) in Chelsea, I knew I had been out way too late to catch the disco nap I was hoping for. I dropped by the office to pick up a bottle of champagne that some vendor had given me at work as a present. And by dropped by the office, I meant negotiated the streets of upper Times Square. On New Year’s Eve. So yeah, no disco nap. Just enough time to shower, change, and peace out.

I feel like most New Yorkers who know what they’re doing either do a very nice/classy(/expensive) New Years Eve special event (definitely not one of those hosted by a celeb at a club… that’s for all the "nicely tanned" bridge-and-tunnel folk) or they stay in until after one. Either way, the point is that you're spending it with your friends and/or loved ones, not a bunch of strangers who are trying too hard.

Med School Mess and her roommate had planned a New Year’s Eve party, and I think I got the invite sometime in October. The last party that Med School Mess had was sort of lacking in the music department, so I had my doubts as to whether this was how I wanted to spend the biggest party night of the year. In the spirit of presenting solutions rather than problems, I demanded suggested that I provide the music for the party. Mess agreed without hesitation.

After I had rushed to get all 5 hours (including an hour of set-up music before the guests arrived) on 2 sets of CDs before I left the house (Murphy’s Law is a way of life in my profession), Med School Mess finally responds to my text, telling me that her sound system will work with an iPhone. Nice.

I won’t even get started on the music suggestions people made (thankfully I asked for them in advance on Facebook).

I arrived to the Almost East Side bachelor pad just after 8, and they were already done setting up for the party. I put the playlist on, and Med School Mess, his hot-as-hell (yet straight) roommate, and I basically hung out til the first guests arrived. Around 9:30 or so, Fruit Bat strutted in with a couple of her real girl friends. She slams a bottle of Captain Morgan’s on the table.

“We’re taking a shot on every hour. This’ll separate the tops from the bottoms.” Well, if you get the tops so drunk that they can’t get it up…

By 10:30, there was a good presence (both gay and straight), but quite a few people hadn’t shown up. That bitch isn't here yet?! Guess she's gonna miss out on her song. Oh well.

I should explain that the theme for this party was Black and White. And somehow, that connected to Barack Obama. Anyway, I was just happy the have an excuse to dress ridiculously. The white gauze overalls made a comeback with the White Timbs , and I used the tops of tube socks for a wristband and a scrunchie. The only black I had was a choker. And just a touch of red showed on the waistband of my otherwise white jock strap. *surprised look* “Oh my god, you guys can see through my overalls?!” Yeah.

Med School Mess, who was enjoying lots of libations as the host, started to insist that "Single Ladies" be played around 11:30. With the original timing of the playlist, it was scheduled for just after midnight (I was working on a progression towards a climax here!). “Dude, be easy. It’s coming up.” That conversation happened no less than 4 times between then and 12:10 when it came on.

Why does all of En Vogue know the dance?

No really.

The whole dance.

After that, things started to kind of fall apart. At some point after 1, we had finally somewhat mobilized the troops to move on. Most people wanted to go to Pieces, but after not being able to check my coat there last year (until I talked to the owner like 3 times!), I was up for something a little less crowded:

“All the Columbia kids are home on vacation. Suite will be the ideal bar to take over! And if we’re over it, we’re right by the train to Pieces, which will be more manageable by then. Mess, give me that drink you just poured; you really don’t need 3/4ths rum right now. And he’s pouring himself another one. Wow wow wow wow.”

Well, as many of you know, I don’t deal well with large, indecisive groups, and that was exactly what faced me at this moment:

“Okay, I’m going to Suite. I’ll meet you guys at Pieces if y’all go.” Four of us escaped in a cab to the West Side. “They’re big girls. They’ll figure it out.”

We get to Suite and get a warm welcome from the tranny cocktail waitress. I would actually never guess that she was trans if it weren’t for the way she dressed.

She better wooorrrrrrrrrrk!

About 10 minutes later, the girls started trickling in. France Pants started yelling at me because they wouldn’t let Med School Mess in the bar because she was too drunk. France Pants stormed out to take the Mess to the Village. Good luck: she’s been kicked out of there for being too drunk, too…

I remember very little about Suite, but they were closing at a somewhat regular time. I have no idea how we got to Pieces, but pictures show that we were there.

God knows what the second iteration of this dance looked like because I sure don’t remember doing it.

As always happens when I’m anywhere within 10 miles of the Village, I scream: “LET’S GO TO CHI CHI’S!” (Un)fortunately, it’s only a Destiny’s Child outing. I’m talking and being extra social with randoms as usual. I look over to the bar, and Med School Mess is bawling.

“My tall-skinny-white boyfriend gave me this green scarf, and I lost it!”

Huh? Are you serious?!

Luckily Bottomless Pitt was consoling him. At least that’s what I thought. He later told me that he was saying, “Bitch, you are wearing a black and white outfit. I’ll be damned if you walked out of the house with a green scarf!” while patting his shoulder. That lasted til 3 minutes past way-too-long, and we then went back to Pieces.

Obviously she wasn’t too broken up about it because she kept drinking. Did I mention I didn’t get to bed until 10am? Yeah.

And because you care, I'm posting my NYE 09 playlist. Keep in mind, I took this task way too seriously. The first hour was to give us something to listen to while we set up. The second hour (about 15 songs/hour) was for the people who arrived early. The 3rd hour was for when everyone arrived. The 4th hour was the build-up to midnight, and the 5th hour was coming down from the climax and getting people ready to go to the bar. Use this wisely.

Ever been to Baña? Check out my sexper exerience here.

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