I threw caution to the wind and went to a party on Monday night. Can you believe it? Monday night! But that's just me, you know? I'm crazy like that.
Mine was thrown by Aubrey and Mitch, who have a history of throwing great parties on New Year's Eve. This year the theme was "The After-Party" and guests were encouraged to dress like they were already on the road to a hangover as opposed to full-on party-mode.
Women wore cocktail dresses and nice hairdos, but paired them with flip-flops for a more casual, end-of-the-evening look. This was our pretty hostess, Aubrey.
Gentlemen wore suits with their shirts untucked and a smudge of lipstick on their collars.
I went with the most literal interpretation for my own after-party style, and wore my yoga pants and what I like to call my "sleepytime shirt". It's one of the least flattering and most obnoxious articles of clothing I own. I scored it off a cigar peddler in Aruba. Paired with a pink tiara, it's actually quite a fetching look.
The truth is, by the time the after-party rolls around, I usually have pillow creases across my face. I am no party girl, and I never have been. I barely drink, I prefer the dawn to the dusk, and I'd rather wake up at four am to study than stay up till four cramming. If this had been a slumber party, surely I would have had my bra frozen.
If I'm up and moving, I can be pretty energetic and start to feel like partying really is in my blood.
But I fall asleep almost immediately when my body becomes inert--a blessing in the comfort of my own home; a curse out in public. Never treat me to a movie--you'll regret it for the rest of your life.
Vin says I'm like a bird who stops chirping the minute a black cloth is draped over its cage.
Make no mistake: I'm not resolving to become a bigger night owl this year. I'm not fooling myself into believing this bird can change her tune.
My resolution, if I must make one, is to make the most of each waking moment before the party's over.