The first column of the New Year seems like an opportunity to say something important, something of great relevance, something inspirational, even, that readers can remember and perhaps call upon to carry them through both the good times and the inevitable difficult times ahead, something memorable, short, pithy, clever, intelligent, humorous, wise and philosophical.
Holy crap. I’m going back to bed.
Wait! That wasn’t it.
I’m sure I can come up with something appropriate. And when I do, I will let you know.
For now, I have a single piece of advice to offer. When you consider it, I think you’ll see that it’s widely applicable. My advice for 2011: Smell it first.
See? I’m right, aren’t I?
A night out for grown-ups? It’s complicated.
This past week, we made plans to celebrate the New Year—yes, WE, meaning Adults-Only! Grandparents watched the kids! Party down…! (Do people still say that? Did they ever?)
Last year, the grandparents were kind enough to watch the kids, and my husband and I were so amazed at the opportunity to celebrate the holiday alone together, that we could not figure out what to do. We were not invited to any parties, or at least any parties that were not “bring your kids” parties. Which is a wonderful idea, when you think about it, because it’s almost impossible to get a sitter for New Year’s Eve, so if you invite friends to bring their kids, you can still have adult companionship and adult-ish conversations. Believe me, I have nothing but admiration for people who are willing to host a herd of rambunctious children in their homes after 10 p.m., especially when most of the adults available to supervise them are getting drunk.
It is important to understand there are strict guidelines to adhere to when you attend this sort of party, as follows: When you arrive at the party, you will warn your kids which furniture and foods they must stay away from, and then you will send them to the basement. You may then talk with other adults for 15 minutes about what the kids are up to these days, followed by 15 minutes about work. When it’s been too quiet for 30 minutes (you may be able to stretch this to 45, depending how many fragile items you believe there are in the house), you will search for your kids, who are mysteriously no longer in the basement. You will find them 10 minutes after that, rummaging through the drawers in the host’s master bedroom. You will send them back to the basement, where they will stay for 15 minutes, after which they will interrupt your conversation about local real estate to ask for dessert. You pretend to be annoyed by the interruption. Once sugared up, the children will disappear again for 15 minutes, after which they will interrupt the conversation about the Jodi Picoult novel that someone’s book group is reading. They will whine that they don’t want to watch Ice Age AGAIN; they want to go home. You will send them back to the basement and try to ignore the pounding on the door after you lock it. For five minutes you will complain about your kids’ whining, and then for 15, you will talk about President Obama and the Tea Party. Twenty minutes after that, you will try to collect your kids and go home, but your kids will whine that they want to stay until the end of the movie. An hour later, at 11 p.m., you will finally drag your children out of the house. They will fall asleep in the car. When you put them to bed, they will pop up wide awake for another hour. But you don’t mind because you are glad you got to go to a party with grown-ups. You will “let” the kids watch Ryan Seacrest, who will put them instantly to sleep. Once the kids are asleep, you and your spouse will have a little champagne, etc. And then at 6:30 a.m., your children will wake up, raring to go. Happy New Year!
So, anyway, we were very sorry not to be able to attend a party like that last year. Because we did not have our kids that night (containing shouts of glee), we decided to do something we can never, ever do with them: We went to a movie. I mean, we went to a movie WE wanted to see. (That’s right, we were pretending about Shrek 3.)
The movie we saw last New Year’s Eve was It’s Complicated; that is the one starring Meryl Streep, Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin. Because on a New Year’s date night, exactly what you want to do with your spouse is see a movie in which the divorced woman seems to have the most fabulous life imaginable, considering that she lives in the suburbs. She is, again, Meryl Streep, which makes her fabulous before she does anything at all. But in the movie, she has a fabulous house which she inexplicably wants to renovate. She owns a fabulous European-ish bakery/restaurant, and of course she’s a fabulous cook although she doesn’t actually have to work in her bakery for most of the movie. She also has beautiful, blonde, fabulous, almost-grown children who are interested in her life and want to spend time with her. Did I mention this is obviously a film in the fantasy genre? Streep’s character has a blowfish of an ex-husband who’s burdening his hot, young, flat-ab second wife with his idiosyncrasies instead of Streep (good riddance, yes?), and yet ex wants to sleep with Streep. Bonus! And, the architect for her reno (read: "nice-guy" option) wants to sleep with her, too! Then, Streep goes to a party and gets really stoned, tee hee, and there are no repercussions except overindulgence in chocolate cake.
Excuse me, but what EXACTLY is so “complicated” here? I left the movie thinking Streep should stay single, not renovate, and keep getting stoned. Why not? She seemed perfectly happy.
(Disclaimer: I am in no way advocating use of illegal substances, other than by a fictional character in a film.)
So, as my husband and I planned this year’s festivities, when we were lucky enough to have grandparents on duty again, we considered our options carefully. I said I would like to run a European bakery where I only bake when I feel like it. My husband said he would like to have a hot young wife with great abs. So we compromised: I can bake in our kitchen whenever I want, but I don’t have to. And he gets a hot young wife with a flat stomach. He just needs to squint a little.
However you spent New Year’s Eve, I hope you had as much fun as Meryl Streep.
Happy 2011 to all!
For more from Paula Whyman, see www.paulawhyman.com and her online parody newspaper www.bethesdaworldnews.com.
