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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1738144-Starting-Over-Again
Rated: 13+ · Novella · Other · #1738144
A true tale of my New Years excursion with my dear friend

I started over again. The year is new so my friend and I decided to toast ourselves. We raised our glasses to surviving the ugliness of relations and maintaining some sense of class. She tried to curl her hair into some Farrah like do. Wine count one for me two for Mj. We are both products of the 80’s; as demonstrated by our ankle boots and the Michael Jackson bolero jacket she is wearing. I yelled to her from the other room, “I need to write a note to him but I am hesitating”. In a moment of clarity she reminded me that we are too old to play games and just say what you need to say. I think she had been listening to John Mayer prior to coming over; it was too poetic I could not give her full credit on that one.
As she was prepping I wrote my farewell. A final thank you for the sweet moments I recalled over the past year. Honoring the past and respecting the possibilities of the future. With minimal editing, I penned a humorous but sweet good bye. This was the foremost promise I had made for myself as the New Year approached. I must let him leave my mind just as he had left my door months before. The response will not be as important as the sending of the message. As they say in the films “love doesn’t end when someone leaves”. Knowing this is no comfort for my feelings of loss. Having clean lines is essential for me to process the completion of things in life. So writing one last time was my demarcation line.
After the hair was curled and goodbyes were sent we commenced our night out on the town. We blasted Carol King and sang off tune. I parked too close to the snow bank and Mj had to negotiate the iceberg with her leggings like some yoga guru. We arrived at our first Irish pub. We were easily the oldest and cutest gals in the immediate vicinity. Wine count three for Mj. I was holding at one. It was her night to be crazy and blow off some steam. I was the driver and I knew the alcohol would cause me to become sad for him; this had to be avoided at all costs. We asked the bartender to take our photo on her ridiculous pink phone as a keepsake. In this way we could prove our new attitude to the world and retain a tangible icon for ourselves.
The second site was a familiar one. Jimmy was at the bar. He always reminds me of an older version of my son. Very good humored and in total control of the chaotic situation. I ordered a Pinot for Mj and gave him a well deserved tip. Wine count four for Mj. She was starting to get a bit louder at this point. She is a happy drunk like me so I did not mind. It is just those awful ones that are mean that I so despise. The music was reminiscent of our days in college. A mixture of the old and the new prompting us to crush a bit on the singers; who could have been our children. Some Elton John came on which prompted Mj to sing aloud. She of course had to send the lyric to her beau who was occupied elsewhere. This was the predominant black cloud over the evening; that damn pink I phone. It is a miracle she did not walk into a wall while texting. We stayed for that one and admired the younger set for their energy and abilities to fit into the size 1 dresses. So I said “we must go” in my direct manner and she said “ok where?” “iit does not matter” I replied.
The third stop was a bit random as they say these days. An old folk’s bar as it is called with an Irish flair. Was there a decade or so ago; I believe I had a shot of Jack Daniels to wash down my mistakes which weighed upon me as I do every decade or so. MJ teased me for the older feel of the place and ordered me to attain another wine. I did and smiled at the cute bartender. I tipped him well in case we needed good service at a future date. Wine count for Mj was at five. I played with the I phone which was more interesting than the clientele. As she returned she was laughing it up with a funny girl dressed in fur with the best hat ever upon her blonde head. This amazing woman was what we referred to in college as “a bag of nuts.” So wise and adorable all at once. She was a business owner in the area and lived in a loft down the street. She gave us the complete 411 on everyone and made the night. We became fast friends and have some great pictures to show of our most excellent Irish stumble. She escorted us to the cigar bar and bid us farewell. “We must go back and find her store” I told Mj “and steal that hat”.
It was nearly midnight, a miracle I was not asleep on some bench as am usually in by ten. The bouncer proofed me and I was so grateful. At 46, it is a mark of honor to be proofed. Mj followed and was talking on that pink phone to her friend who would pick us up within the half hour. So the big screen displayed the Times Square countdown. We walked outside as it was too smoky and gave one another a big hug and happy New Year’s wish. I tried to text my son but my stupid phone sent an invalid message instead. Mj calls it my government phone; but that is another story. It is just a frugal prepaid deal I keep in the car in case. It does really suck I just won’t admit it to anyone. So we froze in the cold and I started bitching that I was too tired an old. Our guy arrived in a BMW with a warm smile and more importantly heated seats.
We arrived at the upscale lawyer bar with our bodyguard aka teddy bear in tow. He was an officer with a heart of gold and a great smile. The cover charge was twenty dollars which also sucks when you are just drinking juice. As soon as we arrived some young man with a Russian like accent grabbed Mj and pulled her close. He must have thought she was from his side of the world with her light complexion. The music was loud and the atmosphere was the worst of any of the locales we had visited. By this time Mj was drinking diet Pepsi but was flailing her arms like a ragdoll and she was quite festive. As she went to get some food the young man decided to hit on me as left over’s perhaps. He took her seat and a skirmish ensued between him and our big friend. Three large Russian men could not calm him and Mj returned having no idea what his longing for her beauty had caused. She dropped the sushi on my lap and went back for more. Our body guard decided to time himself out and had a few more shots .I sat calmly and playing with that damn pink phone. Old school Michael Jackson came on and I dragged my friend to the dance floor. We readily stumbled into our silly suburban white girl moves. I had a chance to talk to our big friend for a while. He is also a teddy bear when drunk so I was not at all offended by his touches on my shoulder. He spoke of his family and twin girls. He told me of his days as a child and how he could have just as easily been on the wrong side of the law and his fate entirely different. Guys rarely share like this so he must have been relaxed by the multiple tequila shots in his system. The bar was not my type but the experience was fun and our new big friend was worth the cover charge for sure.
So as 2:15 approached we decided to bolt and walk our sorry selves a mile or so back to the car. Mj of course had more of a sway to her gait as she tried to hold my arm. Her pride insisted upon her independence in her walking and she even tried to use that damn phone and text him again. It is a miracle she did not break a bone. As we drove away she decided to share with me her strong feelings of car sickness which she often has as a passenger. I told her I would very much like her to not throw up in my new Honda as I am a clean freak. She laughed, I stopped a few times but opening the window seemed to do the trick and we avoided the getting sick episode. Somehow boots were removed and we crawled into our respective spots. She even woke up the next morning still laughing as I overflowed the coffeemaker. We checked on our emails wondering what was awaiting us as if the world somehow cared of our hussy like maneuvers the night before.
So we started again. My dear friend and I stepped outside of our old and into our youth for a moment or two. A toast to her for her strength which she will need now more than ever. I thank her for encouraging me to dress up and feel like a pretty woman once again. She will be ok, then fine and great once again. I know this because I was where she is now. We will keep on going and as we do we will become closer to our truth and farther from our fears. Happy New Years!!!

© Copyright 2011 lisamarie (lisatim at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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