Crappy New Year!

I saw 4 AM last night, bitches!

Yes, unfortunately, it was the inside of the emergency room that I was seeing, but hey; 4 AM is pretty amazing, no matter how you slice it.

So, there was this FABULOUS party sponsored by the Alamo Drafthouse folks over at Playland Skate Center last night. We went with the Noxiouses and Bill and Julie. It was lovely to also see a large slice of my friendship pie there, including the Malcontent Mama and Karla May, who were looking fabulous. First, we roller skated for an hour and a half or so to this fantastic band called K-Tel Hit Explosion, who delivered absolutely spot-on renditions of dozens of the best roller-skating songs ever. Journey, Rod Stewart, The Bay City Rollers, Leo Sayer - you name it, they played it. (And, I FINALLY can say that I have couples skated. To Air Supply's "All Out Of Love." My life is complete.)

I skated, and skated, and skated, and had a freakin' fantastic time doing it. All those Saturdays taking lessons as a kid apparently paid off, as I made it the whole evening with only one minor fall. (I was wearing my very sexy wrist brace as a precaution, which I was wishing I had "Bedazzled" to match my copper sequined disco jacket. So, no harm was done...to me. More on that in a bit.)

After the skating, K-Tel Hit Explosion was joined by Tosca, the string quartet, for their ELO tribute. All I can say is - wow. They were amazing. If you closed your eyes, you would SWEAR Jeff Lynne and ELO were playing in front of you. I grooved to "Sweet-Talking Woman," "Telephone Line," "Xanadu," "Don't Walk Away," "Do Ya," and all of the hits - to which I apparently still know all of the words, especially when I have a slight buzz on.

I was just about into "good buzz" mode, and dancing to "Don't Bring Me Down," when - ironically enough - Mick went down on her skates after hitting a puddle of champagne on the floor.

And, get this - she BROKE HER ARM. Roller skating. At the age of 38. After having never broken a bone in her life. (However, the humor inherent in this was not readily apparent to her at the time.)

So, buzzus interruptus. Amazing how sober you can become in a very short time when your good friend is suddenly white as a sheet, clutching her wrist, and shivering.

As Adam is in LA, The Man and I cut short the boogie-ing and took her to the hospital. The Man and I parted ways so that he could fetch the children from the sitters and I could go about finding Mick's insurance cards, sitting with her in the ER, getting her some Vicodin from the all-night Walgreen's, and embarking on a well-intentioned but ultimately nightmarish trip to the What-A-Burger (populated entirely by drunken revelers, plus ONE GUY who was working the register, cooking the food, and delivering the orders.)

Hence 4:00 AM.

I hope your New Year's Eve was better than that. Truly, even if it sucked ass, it had to be.