There Ain't No Devil, It's Just God When He's Drunk

New Years Eve was sad and depressing rather than than celebratory- it was the gut wrenching day when I had to take Scottie to the airport, alone, and not know when I would see him again...ON OUR 4 YEAR ANNIVERSARY! I know, I know, drama queen, but it was very sad having to leave him at the airport to wander off to his fate (can I add that we had to leave the house at 5:00 AM), a fate which turned out to be hellish.

There wasn't enough room on the plane for him, so Scottie was forced to pay $200 for a last minute flight to LAX. Where he stayed for at least 6 hours before boarding. Once off the ground, the plane needed to make an emergency landing in Chicago. After finally taking off once more, he made it to England, only to find that he had missed his flight to Edinburgh and had to fork out £200 to buy a new ticket.

This was all unknown to me.

Having dropped off my sweetie before the sun arose, I turned around to drive my sorry self home and mope. Having failed at going back to sleep, I decided I might as well head out of my leg of a journey. Since my family's version of New Years Eve is having friends over, eating pizza, and heading off to bed at 9:00 PM, I decided to hightail it back to the glorious Sonoma country to see my best friend from elementary school.

And proceeded to have 6 or 7 margaritias and two or three lemon drops. All in all, it was a fantabulously drunk night of party revelery, and I magically managed to NOT be ill OR have a hangover. Giggidy.

The next day one of my best friends from university drove up, and together we escaped reality and ran away to Humboldt county to get our fill of redwoods, rain, hippies, and hicks. And we got plenty of all of those. Stay tuned for the adventures of Shady and Missy on holiday.