Thursday, January 02, 2003

Okay, I guess it's time to talk about New Year's Eve and what I remember transpiring and why it was probably a good thing that the Aussie wasn’t at the party.

New Year’s Eve, for me, took place at the new home of one of the members of the rugby team – a three story affair a few blocks away from Christopher Street. I got there a little early as I had planned on making jello shots (lime jello and tequila for margarita shots, orange jello and vodka for screwdriver shots, and strawberry jello and pineapple jello with rum for daiquiri shots) and needed to clean my coffee pot (hot water not available yet as the house is being remodeled and the kitchen is pretty much nonexistent) and start mixing away.

I finished up with the shots around 6:30 and helped with the stereo set up and played a couple of racks of nine ball while I waited for the guests to arrive. At about 7:45, our host had to run back to his soon-to-be old apartment to shower and change and I was left in charge of the house. I formally took over my role as Julie, the cruise director of this raucous party while Captain Stubing was away. While I was alone in the house, I did the near impossible and sank the nine ball off the break. Yes, I celebrated but then I got really pissed that no one was there to witness what I had done.

First to arrive was SweetPea looking as adorable as he could be. His other half was doing something down at the Met (performing I’m assuming) and would be joining us later that evening. I commented on my workout regiment and proved that I was ready to take on the world by heaving him over my shoulder and carrying him around for a while. This then led to a quick tour of the house including the master bath with the Jacuzzi tub with a cutout for a thirteen inch TV in the wall.

Next to arrive was Steve and he was soon followed by the Wonder Twinks and their two friends. At this point, a bottle of Veuve Clicquot was opened and I started my drinking binge. Now, as each guest arrived, I was assigned to dump copious amounts of beads on them in a festive Love Boat meets Mardi Gras theme. I found two strands of large (although not too large) multicolored beads that I proudly wore around my neck (which later were stripped off and broken but that’s another story). More and more people arrived and I kept distributing the beads and telling people where to put their coats and drinking more and more Veuve.

Now at some point I wound up being very bitchy (in a good way, not the mean Leona Helmsley way) with some of the friends that the Wonder Twinks brought with them. I was asked if I ever did drag because somehow I reminded this one guy of a drag queen he knew and I said that I had never done drag but if I did my stage name would be Helena Handbasket. One friend loved the name while the other greeted it with mixed reviews. Eh. Then somehow I got called “DJ Julie” because I was somehow now in charge of the music even though I had no choice in the song selections or anything else like that. It was all programmed onto a laptop and being played from that.

Now, somewhere in the middle of all of this Captain Stubing arrived and I went on being a merry cruise director pointing people in the right direction, adorning them with beads, and so forth. This meant I was off the hook for a while to go and play some hookie. The party pretty much though, gravitated towards the kitchen for the longest time as that is where the booze and the food was and well…how can you expect people to leave that?

(Mind you after this point, things might not be in chronological order so bear with me.)

Captain Stubing had taken out some whipped cream to use with the strawberries and decided that we would go around and offer them champagne and strawberries. I took to taking the strawberries and feeding them to people rather than just handing it to them. SweetPea REALLY knew how to take a strawberry as I found one of the largest ones I could find and gently placed it in his mouth. Gently…not shoved.

Now I went around doing this to everyone and some people turned it down and finally I was over with the Wonder Twinks. Now there is one member of the Wonder Twink duo that I (not to mention many other people) wouldn’t mind having at least one illicit tryst with and I came about as close as I ever have that night. I loaded up strawberry after strawberry with whipped cream and kept feeding him over and over (reveling in the erotic-ness of the moment) until one particular berry. I loaded it up with a bit too much whipped cream and a large glob of it fell off and into his mouth. At this point, I took my finger, dipped it into the whipped cream and fed it to him. Now, if you’ve NEVER done this to someone to adore or don’t get around when someone is sucking on your finger then you must be dead. So heap after heap after heap of whipped cream went into his mouth until I couldn’t go around with the strawberries anymore because it would have been a health hazard. At the end (at least I think it was at this point) he gave me a nice hard kiss and I responded with, “Next time more tongue,” making the joke that it was nice but I knew how to make it better.

Sure enough about an hour later, I passed by the Desirable Wonder Twink, he grabbed the front of my shirt, pulled me in, and shoved his tongue down my throat. I wish to God that my reflexes were quicker because I would have so taken advantage of the situation. But that is one kiss I’m not gonna forget for a while.

At another point in the evening, I was talking with the former team captain and his boyfriend about how I should have my own late night talk show where I was ask the questions that people really want to have answered. Things like, “Elizabeth Dole, aren’t you embarrassed to have your sex life on display in those Viagra ads your husband does? And how do you feel about him ogling Britney Spears?” Things like, “Leona Helmsley, why so mean?” This litany of guests and questions I would ask them went on unabated for about thirty minutes and it made me realize that if I did have my own talk show and I asked questions like that, it would be a hit. I would be gayer than Graham Norton on crystal meth and then again no one would want to come on my show because I would say things like, “Ben Affleck just admit it…we all know that you have been fucking Matt Damon since your sandbox days.”

Then there was Steve. We realized at some point in the evening that the master bathroom’s frosted glass wall made nice silhouettes so we started to take turns dancing in the window for the delight of those below. Well, I dragged Steve up there because he was about as drunk as I was and we put on a few dances and at one point mimed oral sex. Of course I started to pinch his nipples, bit them at one point, and had my hand in his pants.

Interestingly enough that wasn’t the only pair of pants I had my hands down. The captain (or is he the coach?) of the Boston team whose boyfriend plays for my team was in town and we were discussing people’s butts. So we started feeling on his butt and at some point I had my hand down the back of his pants. He was a little shocked, but not that much I think. Then there was the former captain of our team who was part of the crew that broke my last set of cool beads. I took them off and shoved them down the front of his pants telling him he was getting an extra set of balls.

At midnight, I had finished handing out bottles of champagne earlier so everyone could get as drunk as possible. Now, I have few traditions in my life but one of them is that I do not drink my official New Year’s glass of champagne from a bottle that was opened prior to midnight. Call me weird. It’s what I do. So I was standing there with my bottle of Veuve Clicquot and everyone wanted a glass of it – BEFORE MIDNIGHT! Now I repeatedly said after midnight and stated it would be bad luck for me etc etc. So someone else opened their bottle and people took from their bottle of Veuve and I had a full bottle to myself. After I had a few obligatory swigs, I started doling it out and even got the Wonder Twink to suck on my finger again and it was better than the first six times. It was so good that I had to hold myself up against the wall to recuperate. That’s the moment when I told someone today’s quote of the day about his oral prowess. I’m still jealous.

Wonder Twinks friends who arrived earlier and later left to go to another party came back with friends in tow. One of the was a girl with whom I did some ballroom dancing (primarily just twirling) and she was getting a little clingy and cuddly. This led several of my ruggers to start telling me to back away from the breasts as they thought I might do something with her related. Eww.

Pants dropped that evening – Sweet Pea, Desirable Wonder Twink (button fly – very hard to open when drunk), Steve, and myself. If there are others I don’t remember them. I only dropped mine so Steve wouldn’t be doing it alone. Desirable Wonder Twink really didn’t fight it either. Sweet Pea fought it just a bit.

Jello shots were a big hit and I think I wound up doing about ten of them to get people to do them with me. They were some potent combos. The pineapple ones, I do agree, were the best. The orange were deceptive – sweet at first with a huge kick. The tequila shots were okay. Not my cup of tea though. This is what really got me loaded. That and Austin’s peach champagne blended drinks. Holy mother of God were they good.

Oh we also learned that if this one window in the master bathroom was open, we could stand on the landing and watch people have sex in there.

I do remember that the evening ended with a lot of us watching Bring It On and it was kinda scary watching a uniformed NYPD officer actually do the cheers with them.

So that’s what I remember for now...if more comes out and I feel inclined to share I will....
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