The Coronas had a New Year's party. It was eight of us, eating "Mexican" food, compliments of Deb, our hostess who knows a guy who makes decent tamales in, "South Texas." Hoping to add some authentic, I brought dulce de leche bars, which were about as authentic as the corn dip and Fritos Cindy brought.
Sigh... I've been gone from Arizona two weeks and I'm already missing real Mexican food.
We played cards and dominos and munched on all things that bring on Type II diabetes. Though these parties usually end by 10 p.m., we were there until 1 a.m. We watched the Time's Square ball drop at 11 p.m. and then an hour later we watched the Nashville Note drop. Then Krissy sang, "Auld Lang Syne." Afterwards, we went outside and lit sparklers like we were eleven years old.
At some point, someone commented that I was the "new kid," and the other six corrected her. Nope. Not any more, which was nice to hear--though I still feel like a complete outsider. The party was a laugh-fest, which was a nice way to end a crappy twelve months.
Of note, while driving home, the streets were completely empty. There were no erratic drivers or crazy folks still celebrating. I saw one car, two possums and three deer during my 10 minute drive.
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