Never in my life have I been more pumped to go to work, drink lots of water, and solely eat veggies and only veggies. Seriously. I went to Wegman’s yesterday and like bought out the veggie section. It’s go time.
Why is all of this happening you ask? Well I rung in 2015, and I rung it in HARD. Simply because I found out I’ve been celebrating New Year’s wrong all of these years like a moron.
If you’re from Philly (which according to my analytics, a lot of you are …GLAVIN!), you are well aware that celebrating New Year’s Eve is for amateurs due to a little thing called the Mummers Parade. I did not get this memo. I suppose the sparkles from my fancy pants dress I paid WAY too much for and the hole in my wallet from paying for over-priced cocktails blurred my vision. Since I’ve been legal to drink (wink), I spent New Year’s Day on my couch, nursing my hangover.
The Mummers: Ahem … Great music. String bands. Men/women/kids in sparkly dresses. Strutting. Family traditions. Large amounts of drinking. I mean, did I die and go to heaven?
Little did I know New Year’s Day in Philly is like Disney World, minus the annoying families, lines, and creepy characters. You know what, nothing like Disney World, I take it back. It is just an electric place to be. No longer are we the fat, angry, cheese steak hoarders, oh no. Literally, a girl stepped on my foot, turned around, exclaimed, “OMG I’M SO SORRY! HERE! HAVE A BEER! HAPPY NEW YEAR, GIRL!” I just stood there, stunned, looking around at how fucking happy everyone was. Doing their best Mummer’s struts, sharing beers, cheersing one another. It almost made me feel emotions. Ha!
Listen, I love busting a move. Like really love it. But LOATHE going to “da club” because of A. creepy dudes, B. girls trying WAY too hard, and C. crowded spaces overflowing with douche monkeys. On New Year’s Day in Philly though, it is like your best friend’s wedding meets Mardi Gras, meets a straight up shit show where everyone is happily dancing in the middle of the street, drinking in front of cops …yes, you heard me correctly. Dancing in the streets with grown men in sparkly dresses?! Umm yeah, where the fuck have I been all these years?! Literally, I backed it up on 2 Street in a long North Face parka to Taylor Swift. Again, that really happened.
If you aren’t from Philly, and have no idea what the hell I’m talking about, just don’t ask questions and join in next year. I’m ashamed of myself for being such a chump all these year’s nursing my hangover on New Year’s Day, when one of the greatest parties of all time was occurring just miles away from me.
Now you can understand why my liver is trying to pack its bags and vacate my body. Water and veggies or bust, people. Water and veggies.
Until then … I will be counting down until next New Years.