New Year's

I generally hate New Year's Eve. So much anticipation, and then you're either thaving too much fun to notice that midnight has come and gone, or else you make it to midnight and then start to wonder how long before you can respectably go home. Last year we ended up deciding not to bother with it at all, and had a nice steak, a good bottle of wine and a movie. We managed to stay awake til midnight, then went to bed before the fireworks on TV had even finished. 

I enjoyed that so much that this year I was quietly hoping that we might end up on the couch with my aunts and uncle where it is warm and where there would be sure to have been plentiful prosecco and snacks. But then Jo’s friend, the lovely Lindsay, mentioned that she was going to La Soiree with some friends. It sounded intriguing; a saucy cabernet show in a big top on Southbank. After the show there would be dancing until 2am, and the chance to watch the fireworks from an enclosed area outside. Luckily, there were still tickets available. 

And it was amazing. Dancing, sexy men doing gymnastics, comedy, singing. Hula hoops. Naked ladies doing magic tricks. More sexy men doing other kinds of gymnastics. Everything you could wish for. Oh, and the outdoor area had a nice big fence between us and the plebs who'd come down to watch the fireworks from the riverbank. We waved our champagne in their faces, naturally, and taunted then about the fact that we had easy access to toilets and more champagne. There was a minor riot, but it was worth it to feel superior for a while. Good times. I enjoyed myself so much that I might even consider trying to be sociable again next New Year's Eve.