Catwalking and head trauma.

OK.

It’s been a rough start to the new year. Really rough. New year, new you, my ass. But, I’m not going to go into it.

I would, however, like to discuss the end of 2006. I must say, it was grand.

I’ve never been a fan of new year’s eve. People (the collective “people”) just seem put way too much expectation into one night. I prefer to just hang out with my Mum, drink a lot of wine, and eat a lot of cheese. It’s not a bad way to spend a night, believe me. Of course, it’s not unlike how I spend most nights . . . but nonetheless: new year’s eve can usually suck it.

So WHY I decided to head to Vermont with 6 other women to spend new year’s weekend in a house, with one bathroom, is beyond me.

I was proven wrong. So very, very wrong. It was, in a word, fanfuckingtastic. And I think it deserves a list. A top ten, if you will.

TOP TEN REASONS TO SPEND A WEEKEND IN VERMONT WITH 6 FABULOUS WOMEN:

10. Learning once and for all that you’re not a morning person, after waking up to an incessant DING DING DING one morning (“It might help to plug in the toaster, Barbara.” —Tina) and pots clanging the next (“Barbara, you’re killing me right now. Could you just . . . read a book.” —yours truly)

9. Catwalking . . . after drinking a LOT of champagne.

8. 7 women crying while watching Fried Green Tomatoes.

7. Learning how to do your hair. With product. And a blow dryer. And a round brush. While drinking champagne.

6. Beer pong . . . with champagne flutes.

5. Being driven (in a limo no less) up a VERY icy road, with a pants-less Jenny, and Teri curled up on the floor, not sure if you’re going to die or not. (“that was enough to make me start going to church again” —Cris)
5.5. Being led up a very icy, dark hill by Kimmy and a piggy key chain (that snorts and lights the way thru little electric blue piggy nostrils).

4. Waking up in the morning to see 7 frozen Amstel bottles in the snow, near where you got in the cab to go to the bar. Because the time it would take to walk from the house’s front door to the taxi would be too long of a time to not have a beer in your hand.

3. 4 bottles of wine, 14 bottles of champagne, 3 dozen Amstels, and more at the bar . . . (“Not a single man in the house and we have enough alcohol to choke a small horse.” —Teri)

2. Sitting down to a delicious dinner, prepared by the one and only chef Tina, and fabulous conversation . . . and realizing how honored you are to be friends with every single person sitting at the table. **sniff**

1. Trying to walk across the iciest parking lot EV-ER while laughing your ass off . . . even though you end up concussing yourself (by falling and smacking your pretty little head). **I will never ever forget the image of Teri on the ground screaming “HELP ME TINA! HELP ME!” before taking Tina down OR the image of Jenny commando-ing it on the ground with Kim over her screaming “You’re going to ruin your blazer! Get up!!”**

Ladies, despite the head trauma, I had an amazing weekend. Thank you Cris, Kimmy, Jenny, Teri, Tina, and Barbara. I heart you.

Here’s hoping 2007 pulls up its skirt soon.