Apparently the City of Seattle hates me, my husband, and the year 2008.
(Legal Disclaimer: The City of Seattle probably doesn’t hate me, my husband, or the next 365 days, I mean, they really don’t even know us that well.)
December 31st, 11:35 pm, 2007: Jay’s been in bed for almost an hour. I informed him before he went to bed that I’d most likely wake him up at a quarter to midnight. We already sorta rang in the new year at 9 pm EST, since both of us believe that East Coast time is the only real time zone in the country (and also we’re both sleepy, lazy bastards that wanted to go to bed already, like the lame asses that we are). That said, I heard there were gonna be fireworks at midnight in Seattle, and the roof deck (that we’ve never visited) of our rather costly apartment complex allegedly grants an amazing view of the Space Needle (where many amazing fireworks are alledgedly launched on New Year’s Eve). I thought Jay and I watching said fireworks would be really romantic and cool. A nice ending/beginning to one of the best, most exciting years of our lives.
December 31st, 11:48 pm, 2007: I drag Jay’s sleepy ass out of bed. “Dude, there’s gonna be really amazing fireworks shooting off the Space Needle! Wake UP!” Jay grumpily but obligingly puts on his slippers and coat, I toss a pack of smokes (our last, since we’re quitting tomorrow) and a couple of beers (my last, since my doctor said I should “Really quit drinking. Like, forever”) in my coat pocket. We head over to the building that has the roof deck, which isn’t the building we actually live in. On our way, the street is jam-packed with drunk idiots waiting for the countdown and fireworks. I stupidly take this as an “awesome sign that everything’s gonna be super awesome.”
December 31st, 11:52 pm, 2007: I struggle with the keys that allegedly let us into the section of the building that we don’t actually live in with the roof deck. After way too many anxious minutes, the lock finally gives, and we get onto the elevator with a family with 2 dogs, a 4 year old child, and an assortment of slightly drunk parents and relatives, all talking about how incredible the fireworks are gonna look from the roof.
December 31st, 11:59 pm, 2007: I offer Jay one of my pocket beers, and a cigarette. He sleepily, but politely, refuses both. The roof deck is festively adorned with Christmas lights, inebriated adults, and a couple of roaming dogs that have no idea what the fuck is going on. People inquire as to what time it is, and if anyone knows the exact countdown. They don’t, but we all assume that the Space Needle will alert us when the proverbial shit starts going down.
January 1st, 12:00 am, 2008:The Space Needle briefly lights up with fireworks as several people shout out at least three differerent countdowns for the New Year.
January 1st, 12:00:12 am, 2008: All fireworks end.
January 1st, 12:05:07 am, 2008: I apologize to Jay profusely, and we head down a dark stairwell to street level. Jay is still half asleep as I sheepishly mention I heard there were gonna be at least 10-15 minutes of amazing fireworks, and that like, 20,000 people were supposed to be over at the Space Needle, checking all this awesome shit out. So it was supposed to be really cool. And we would have seen it all from our roof deck, like no one else. If it had actually happened.
January 1st, 12:07:00 am, 2008: While walking back to our building, we hear a huge amount of rocket retorts and explosions. They can’t be seen from where we are, and they abruptly end, right before…
January 1st, 12:10:00 am, 2008: We get home. We keep hearing explosions, and see a few lights reflecting off high-rises near us, but we can’t see anything.
January 1st, 12:20:00 am, 2008: We turn on the T.V., and learn that the Space Needle apparently had massive technical difficulties, resulting in all fireworks being delayed by at least 10 minutes or more, ending with the “Official Firework Technicians” having to go through and light every rocket and blast cap by hand. Which by all accounts looked disappointing and retarded.
Whatever time it is now, January, 2008: Gahhhhh. I’m writing crap for a goddamn blog while my husband sleeps soundly, and I despise the entire city of Seattle for ruining what I thought was gonna be this awesome, totally romantic evening, where Jay and I would look deep into each other’s eyes, and talk about what an amazing year it’s been, and how awesome we thought this next year would be, and maybe we’d make out a little bit. So fuck you, Seattle.
Fuck you in your stupid ass.
2008 is a leap year, so there are 366 days for Seattle to hate.
I love to rain on people’s parade.
In my defense, I actually considered the fact that years ending in multiples of four have an extra day…but ultimately I decided to ignore it in the face of sheer, drunken indifference.
Upon sobering up, I find it funny that I cared so little about accuracy, but so very goddamn, howlingly much about a couple stupid fireworks. Sheesh.
It is good you are writing again.
Yet another testament to the fact that you are reason we can’t have anything nice!
How does it prove this?
Because Jay wanted NICE SLEEPY TIME and instead you gave him COLD ROOF TOP SUCKY AWAKE TIME
You might also be the reason why the fireworks failed in the first place.