Kitty Power

On To The New

Happy 2005, everybody! 2004 was a bit meh, here’s to hoping it can only get better instead of worse!
I started my New Year’s Eve traipsing across Queens and Brooklyn to meet up with Ant and the management company man. We read and signed and read and signed and read and nitpicked and signed. Exchanged checks for keys and papers. And with some finals handshakes, Ant and I became official residents of Brooklyn. We made our way from Boro Park to Prospect Heights, strolling up Flatbush and deciding that the birthday dinner (just over 3 months and counting) shall be held at Chuck-E-Cheese this year because…well, just because. (We were amused by the imaginary exchange: “So, how old are you this year, erm…little girl?” “Oh, 24.”) We had a good old southern food lunch on Vanderbilt, murdering our food upon sniffing. We’re very excited about all the stores in the area. We went to the place to guestimeasure rooms and confer on where furniture would go. This week, I measure for real. Next weekend is move in. Yay for us! And I spent everything I had in the bank minus $30 to get to this point. Not so yay!
New Year’s Eve proper was rather anti-climactic. I dragged my feet and ended up where I wanted to be later than I planned. I had my first of 3 train rides with stupid kids running off at the mouth trying to start fights. WTF was up really with all the 16 year olds on the loose last night? In my teenage days, I knew I’d either be in watching Dick Clark on the TV, at a party with the folks, or someplace random like church. I sure as fuck wouldn’t have been roaming the streets in a pack of knuckleheads. Later on that night on the G, two groups actually did get into a fight that other adults, being more benevolent than me (who just raised an eyebrow and then laughed at first with the folks sitting across from me), broke up. But when the group of little white kids (plus one boy of interminate ethnicity who had been getting angry that he was getting “played as a punk”), cowering in fear not mins before until the black girls who had been getting ready to open a supersized can of whoop were subdued, started talking smack now that it was safe again, I screamed on them to shut the fuck up since they were underaged little shits causing drama and we all should just let the girls beat the smirks off their stupid faces. And they did.
I rang in the New Year with my comp glass of Andre in Subtonic of the screwed up toilets, darkness, and DJ who was too busy playing Black Box (or something equally as random) to realize it had been 2005 for about 3 mins before he started the countdown. I had to quickest ride from Delancey to Bedford-Nostrand (like less than 15 mins) and strolled into the party at Jenny‘s invite. There were mini-cupackes, people! Cupcakes + alcohol = triple plus good in the Candice book. Listening to music, talking…I had fun. I made a half-hearted attempt to check out a party on 14th and then realized that I was definitely okay with going home at 4am. And the best part was not spending a fucking dime all night long! Return to the frugal crafty ways of back in summer/fall ’03 era? Perhaps. Viva ’05!

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