New Year’s Eve Party At The Dip

So… hi? How have you been? Ok you go.

(Waits Impatiently.)

(Taps Foot.)

Fine. I’ll go.

Those who know me (and I’ve mentioned this before) know I am a hermit. And people often wonder what I’m doing all those hours I spend alone. Basically, I’m hiding from people.

Now that kind of sounds anti-social, because it totally is.  I mean no offense to you at all, but if you’re reading this, there’s a good chance you are a person and giving me the finger.

But wait… allow me to explain.

It’s not like I dislike people. I’m just kind of socially awkward. I’m uncomfortable in social situations because I’m more worried about saying or doing something stupid. I do it all the time, so I know it happens.  That’s why I just stay home a lot, type stuff, look on craigslist for things that I can buy, watch reality tv shows, and eat lots of candy.

I’ve been down in Florida for a couple months because I get chilly. I’m kind of like… I don’t even know. I am the new standard for wussy when it comes to cold tolerance. As soon as it hits 60, the equator starts magnetically drawing me southward.

For the people who live in the snow, I applaud you, but I’ve stopped so I can do that cuckoo thing where you revolve one finger around your ear and point in the direction of crazy with another. You can’t clap and do that at the same time.

So anyway, I miss The Dip a lot. I miss the people very much, and I usually don’t miss people. I’m sure there are all sorts of psychological reasons that led to why I avoid them, and probably all sorts of things that happened to me as a child and through my formative years. (Like the time when I was the only one who showed up to a high school Halloween party in a costume. Specifically, a diaper. Holding a teddy bear. Sucking on a pacifier. And crying.)

But the Dip is different. It’s comfortable. You can walk into a room full of people and feel instantly at home. There’s a camaraderie that’s hard to describe and sense of comfort I have not felt anywhere else. I guess what I’m saying is that I miss The Dip terribly, and despite the weather being below 60 degrees, I can’t stay away.

Unbelievably, the end of 2013 is here. Remember this time last year when we thought the Mayans had totally screwed us? Ha! In your face, Mayans! (Makes cuckoo motion.)  And with the end of this year comes the party of the year, and personally, I can’t wait.  For old time’s sake I might even dress like a baby.

If you haven’t attended a Serendipity Park New Year’s Eve party, I don’t want to say you’re dumb, but that’s only because I try to be polite and it’s mean to call people that.  Ok “dumb” is the completely wrong word. Let’s say you’re misinformed about the awesomeness that awaits you. So allow me to fill you in.

It’s awesome. The atmosphere is charged with positive vibes. I’ve been to a lot of New Year’s Eve’s parties in my day… wait. Scratch that. No I haven’t. I usually avoid them. And I think that’s a testament to the parties at The Dip, because I don’t avoid them. I guess that’s my entire point.

So if you’ve made plans this year other than to be at Serendipity, cancel them. Just call the people you made plans with and say something like, “I wish I could attend your party, but… I have to go to Peru.”  This way they won’t think you’re throwing them over for a better party. And if they ask, “Why are you going to Peru?” You simply respond, “None of your business! You don’t own me!” Then you slam the phone down. People shouldn’t pry. That’s just rude.