There were reports that there was going to be an afterparty but I was pretty well partied out. I'd had a great time, kissed plenty of
folks nearabout midnight, and wasn't sure I was up for an all night fandango. I headed off down the street, caught a bus
homewards that I shared with a passel of tipsy, hat-wearing, post-partyers, and crashed out well before 2 am.
On New Year's Day I got up and went to work doing inventory at Left Bank where we counted and organized all the books in the store, then headed off to Speakeasy to earn doubletime pay to have a light work day. Something about bringing in a new year just made me want to work extra hard.
My sister is of the opinion that whatever you are doing on New Year's Eve will somehow follow you through the entire new year. Last year I was hosting 20 people and
40 people's worth of food at my place in Vermont and crossing my fingers that I could feed them all for a few days if something really terrible happened. This year I walked by myself, with friends, through the streets of Seattle in a temporary autonomous zone that ephemerally represented the world of my dreams.