Blog CemeteryNew Year's Eve with Paris Hilton et al
December 27th 2006 00:15
Yup, it’s that time of year again. The countdown is on until New Year’s Eve. Why does what should really be the biggest party of the year fill me with such dread?
Yep, you guessed it. Because it’s always a let-down.
I always feel as though there is somewhere and some people more hip and fun (aside from my boyfriend and family, of course) that I could be spending the first few moments of the new year with – in my Dream Life, of course.
Never have I been to a New Year’s Eve party, where all the partygoers are dressed in black and white, and partying in an exclusive apartment overlooking the Sydney Harbour, like a hairdresser of mine once told me she did one unforgettable New Year’s Eve. Bi-atch!
Nope, I can barely remember my New Year’s Eve shenanigans. Most of the time no one is ever organised enough to pull together a good party – and no one wants to throw one, in case no one turns up and the rest of their new year is doomed. (I hate being a party host also.)
(Big sigh). Oh well! At least I know Hollywood heiress Paris Hilton will be slumming it in Sydney – instead of partying in LA or New York or some exotic place – this NYE.
The sassy lass is getting paid to be here, of course, to represent the beverage brand, Bondi Blonde, in judging their World’s Most Famous Blonde comp. (Though she’d hardly know her Bergdorf Blonde from her Bondi Blonde.) Still, at least this is one NYE when even poor Paris will be working – rather than schmoozing at some big deal party!!
As for my past NYE experiences - let me cast my mind back… Last year’s was spent at the beachside suburb of Glenelg with my boyfriend, friend and her boyfriend of the time (who ended up being a dickhead and they’ve since split). We had a nice view of the fireworks from the hotel’s balcony we were at, but it was mainly a hot, sweaty night, with many a young drunken meandering past – and the wait for the bus back home was long and unbearable. A cold 45 minute wait or some such! Least the bus driver – though working – had some warmth in his vehicle.
The year before that? A house party at my sister and brother-in-law’s with all the family. Hardly “top night” worthy stuff (think we all left not long after midnight), but it was nice being close to family and not worrying about the city crowds/cool parties etc for a change. Old age must have been starting to set in…
Before that, I think I went to a Latino party with my then Latino boyfriend. Before that – hung out with my sister’s friends at a Glenelg house party. And, before that, it was city nightclubs (often the ones we visited each week, but on NYE had to pay exorbitant fees to get through the door for, only to have to tiptoe your way through shards of broken glass and fallen drunks, all to have no one to kiss at midnight). The new millennium eve – 2000 – was spent at the Town Hall street party with my sister and cousins. What a disappointment when the Y2K bug didn’t actually happen, as promised, and ATMs worked fine. At least, something exciting would have happened if all had gone awry – but it was just as normal, alas! (And, boy, I wish I hadn’t made that drunken call to my ex from Sydney – who, er, wasn’t alone that night.)
Yes, I have always found somewhere to go on NYE but it has never ever lived up to my lofty expectations.
In fact, really great parties, for me, are far and few between these days. I really am feeling old at the ripe old age of 27.
This NYE, I intend to spend the night with my boy in a hotel in the country. Walking up and down the main street should be the highlight. Sure, it ain’t Paris Hilton style – but then I’m not from Bondi either.
Yep, you guessed it. Because it’s always a let-down.
I always feel as though there is somewhere and some people more hip and fun (aside from my boyfriend and family, of course) that I could be spending the first few moments of the new year with – in my Dream Life, of course.
Never have I been to a New Year’s Eve party, where all the partygoers are dressed in black and white, and partying in an exclusive apartment overlooking the Sydney Harbour, like a hairdresser of mine once told me she did one unforgettable New Year’s Eve. Bi-atch!
(Big sigh). Oh well! At least I know Hollywood heiress Paris Hilton will be slumming it in Sydney – instead of partying in LA or New York or some exotic place – this NYE.
The sassy lass is getting paid to be here, of course, to represent the beverage brand, Bondi Blonde, in judging their World’s Most Famous Blonde comp. (Though she’d hardly know her Bergdorf Blonde from her Bondi Blonde.) Still, at least this is one NYE when even poor Paris will be working – rather than schmoozing at some big deal party!!
As for my past NYE experiences - let me cast my mind back… Last year’s was spent at the beachside suburb of Glenelg with my boyfriend, friend and her boyfriend of the time (who ended up being a dickhead and they’ve since split). We had a nice view of the fireworks from the hotel’s balcony we were at, but it was mainly a hot, sweaty night, with many a young drunken meandering past – and the wait for the bus back home was long and unbearable. A cold 45 minute wait or some such! Least the bus driver – though working – had some warmth in his vehicle.
Before that, I think I went to a Latino party with my then Latino boyfriend. Before that – hung out with my sister’s friends at a Glenelg house party. And, before that, it was city nightclubs (often the ones we visited each week, but on NYE had to pay exorbitant fees to get through the door for, only to have to tiptoe your way through shards of broken glass and fallen drunks, all to have no one to kiss at midnight). The new millennium eve – 2000 – was spent at the Town Hall street party with my sister and cousins. What a disappointment when the Y2K bug didn’t actually happen, as promised, and ATMs worked fine. At least, something exciting would have happened if all had gone awry – but it was just as normal, alas! (And, boy, I wish I hadn’t made that drunken call to my ex from Sydney – who, er, wasn’t alone that night.)
Yes, I have always found somewhere to go on NYE but it has never ever lived up to my lofty expectations.
In fact, really great parties, for me, are far and few between these days. I really am feeling old at the ripe old age of 27.
This NYE, I intend to spend the night with my boy in a hotel in the country. Walking up and down the main street should be the highlight. Sure, it ain’t Paris Hilton style – but then I’m not from Bondi either.
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