A good night

Here we go. Time for a cliched New Year blog post about adventures and hardships and everything else under the sun. Or not. I’ve probably blogged more than enough about these things throughout the year.

What I will talk about, though, was my night.

Friends, this is the first year I’ve really properly celebrated New Year’s Eve. For 2012 I went camping with some mates, but I didn’t really get into the spirit of it. In fact, I think I might have gone to bed before 12, that’s how lame I am. This year I actually got into it, for the first time in my life.

I said to Sam earlier in the day: “Can you actually kiss me at midnight this year? We’ve been together for three years and we’ve never once done the midnight kiss.” He mumbled something about whether or not he’d still be on his feet at midnight but said he’d try. As it turned out, he particularly didn’t want to let me down, because it seemed like every time I turned around that night he was stuffing his face with bread, trying to sober up so he didn’t crash out and thus be unable to kiss me.

We spent New Year’s at a bach at Waihi Beach, with good ol’ Sacha, her boyfriend, and about 15 of their friends. I was a little nervous initially, considering there wasn’t going to be many people I knew, but after about an hour I started talking to more people and having more fun. I was already in a good mood because I’d had my very first pay day for my new job that day. I found it particularly poetic that I’d spent the entire year being dirt poor and borrowing money to afford my groceries, and on the last day of 2013 I was suddenly rolling in it. Life’s funny sometimes.

I don’t actually have too much to say about my New Year’s Eve, except just remembering a few of the fun parts. We went down onto the beach around midnight and I ran off towards the waves, only so I could splash around in the ankle deep water. I did that several times that night and each time I was chased down by a worried and somewhat intoxicated Sam who thought I might go too far out and drown. It was sweet.

We made some friends on the beach. I never really saw their faces except by the light of somebody’s cellphone, and I only remember talking to them for about ten minutes. I spent most of the time cuddling up to Sam and repetitively telling him I loved him, but that didn’t stop one of our new friends from trying to go in for the goodbye kiss when we left.

“No,” I said to this boy, pointing to Sam, who was completely oblivious. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh sorry,” he muttered, skulking off.

That was an interesting experience for me. People never try to kiss me. Well, Sam does, but he’s obligated to try, if only to keep me happy. Needless to say, I was the tiniest bit flattered. Not keen, in any way, shape, or form, but flattered nonetheless.

Today on the way home to Tauranga, a car ahead of us pulled over a little quickly. As we drove past, we saw someone stagger out of the passenger side of the car and projectile vomit on the side of the road.

I was amused.