Mass consumption.

I swear, I took New Year's Eve (hereafter referred to as NYE, because I am too lazy to type it all out) pictures. Unfortunately, I do not have the little cable thingy here that would enable my downloading said pictures from camera to laptop. So this is what you miss out on (at least until I download pictures when I get back to Boston in two weeks):

*The display of at least 25 bottles of red wine. Please note that this was only the red wine - the white and champagne were in the fridge, and there was a crapload of beer, as well as a super-stocked bar. Yum, fresh grapefruit juice and Absolut Mandarin, with a twist of lime. Nothing like it. Especially after four of them or so.
*The food that we made for the 40 people - mainly Katie's dad's friends. Lots of homemade pizza, yum. Proscuitto-wrapped asparagus. Lamb chops. Lasagna. I don't think we even made it to dessert.
*The picture of Lisa, one of the other few people our age, and the big black Xs on the back of her hands. Someone was a little drunk and instead of grabbing her driver's license, took her Starbucks card as photo ID. The bouncer at the Coachhouse, for some reason, did not accept this as proper ID. Nor did, "Well, does this work here, at least?" go over well. Nevertheless, the waitress didn't check the backs of our hands and Lisa proceeded to get the drunkest out of all of us, even with those big black Xs. So much for that system.

I only wish that Katie and I had gotten down there a day earlier - apparently, Katie's dad, Lisa's dad, and another father all went to high school together and any time they get together they drink lots. When at the beachhouse, drinking always commences at 4PM, if not sooner. Yes, they were drunk NYE, but the eve before NYE they apparently got drunk and high. To help you with your mental imagery, Katie's dad reminds me of Fraiser in looks and character (without as many neuroses, though), and he wears Uggs. He actually preceded the Ugg trend and wears his Uggs everywhere, with shorts and tasteful Hawaiian shirts. Still, though, he's in his mid-50s and wearing Uggs. And then when he gets together with his drinking buddies, they do things like buy plastic bull balls to hang from each other's SUVs as pranks. It's good to know that guys never change, even when they're that old. And while I've seen them all drunk before, I've never seen them high and that would have been fantastic.

Come to think of it, we were really obnoxious at the concert. It's their fault for giving all the patrons paper horns. We used our horns to harrass the adult table (because obviously, we did not want to sit at the same table. We did, however, have no problem putting all our drinks on their tab). But strangers kept giving us strange looks, probably because they didn't actually realise that we knew the adult table. They probably thought we were hitting on all the old men. Awesome.

Brunch the next morning was amazing, as well. If you have the opportunity, you must have brunch at the St. Regis in Monarch Bay. It was absolutely beautiful. It's on my short list of places where I would like to get married. (Yes, Katie's dad wore his Uggs. I was serious when I said he wore them everywhere.) I believe I managed to tuck away: french toast, eggs benedict, home fries, bacon, sushi, oysters, cocktail shrimp, and at least 4 different desserts. When I'm hungover, I'm hungry. Actually, I think I'm hungry just thinking about all of it again.