A Black Velvet Evening Gown

I've always had this vision of me at a New Year's Eve party, somewhere is the hub of excitement... perhaps Manhattan, London, or even D.C. ... Big band playing, the bubbly flowing, everyone dressed formally in their evening best...

Every time I think of this vision of me at a New Year's Eve party, I'm wearing a long, black velvet gown, similar to this one:

But tonight, you will find me alone, in front of my desktop computer, wearing this evening gown:
No joke. But with a do-rag to boot.

Is it just a matter of zip code, whether or not you end up at parties like the one I envision? Or can we create reality out of these fantasies?

I spent a Christmas in Madrid, Spain; I was eating out of a foil take-out pan, on the cold, wood floor of our bottom-level-now-condemned flat. As I was choking down the pad woon sen with my tears, I thought about this vision of me in a black velvet gown, in the middle of an elegant Christmas party somewhere far away from there, in the distant future.

I don't know if it's the handiwork of Viktor Frankl's Noodynamics that are effectively helping my troubled mind, but I can see myself in these parties when times are, well, less than optimal. Right now, times are less than optimal.

Before marriage and kids, New Year's Eve was right up there on my list of best holidays slash parties for the year. Even more so than my birthday, I am a lover of New Year's Eve. It's the human interaction, the energy involved with welcoming a new year. I'd always research well beforehand what party would hold the biggest bang, who would be there, and why it was the best party in the state. But, life holds a funny power in taking away some pleasures, and replacing them with ones that are different.

Tonight for New Year's Eve I ate Thai take out and enjoyed the New York City's Philharmonic celebration on TV. It was a lovely way to spend an otherwise less-than-optimal holiday. I was surprised at how the twins wolfed down beef waterfall salad, musaman curry, and pad woon sen. Alex, not surprising, just ran in circles, yelling "tootyhead!" While we ate.

Would I trade my kids for a black evening gown? Duh, no. But I still see myself, almost like Mr. Kreuger, at a party in the distant future. With my family, of course.

Happy New Year's Eve!