New Year’s Eve When You’re Old

  It starts in your thirties. You realize you can no longer drink like you used to and then, by the time you’re in your forties you’re lucky you can stay awake until 11:59pm to send the multitude of texts to your friends then go to sleep.

I can remember in my twenties partying until the wee hours on New Year’s Eve. We’d get dressed up, go to a swanky, expensive hotel for dancing and drinking and subpar hotel food. I’d never be hungover. My body would bounce right back the next day and we could start over again with mimosas in the morning.

Now my body says “Hold the fuck up, lady. Just who do you think you are?”.

A hangover is a three day ordeal that feels like the flu. I’m too practical to shove my feet into sky high stilettos to dance the night away only to deal with blisters the size of quarters the next day.

Don’t get me wrong, I love to dress up, but not for a night surrounded by drunken revelers, a road full of those same revelers driving, and the world’s worst cheap champagne overflowing at midnight.


These are the things that happen when you reach your forties and become practical and pragmatic. I’m sure my parents never thought this day would come.

To all those still young enough to hang tonight, be safe. Close your 2015 out with a bang. In 2035 you’ll find yourself laying on a couch in yoga pants and a sweat shirt at 11:15 pm contemplating whether or not your friends will be mad if you just send that “Happy New Year” text when you wake up at 10am tomorrow.

Here’s to 2016… another year older, another year wiser. 

Happy Almost New Year from Texas!

-THAT crazy girl


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