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Wednesday, December 29, 2010

My Romantic New Year's Eve, aka On Why I Choose Celibacy, Reason #56

I had a romantic New Year’s Eve once. I even remember it. My buddy Brian hosted a dance-and-dinner party to celebrate the arrival of 1992.

Anticipating delectable dessert, I slithered into my little black dress and drove to The Cheesecake Factory in Redondo Beach, California.

I was not alone for long before Philip conspicuously slid onto the chair to my left. We proceeded to chat and share a generous portion of white chocolate cheesecake decorated in elaborately swirled dark chocolate, sparkled with slivers of almonds. My favorite part was the luscious, crumbly graham cracker crust. But I digress.

On cue (i.e., as soon as I licked the last remnants off of my fork), Philip asked me to dance. We spent the next several hours grooving to 1991’s best: Paula Abdul, Madonna, Boys II Men, Michael Jackson, Celine Dione (I know. I know, but she wasn't hated back then), and more of the same.

At the midnight hour, we separated to make the obligatory rounds, forcing insincerely loving hugs onto everyone in the room. Alas, we were thrilled to reunite a minute later. After some more, and slower, dancing, Philip moved in for a kiss. I still remember the sound of his shirt collar as it brushed against my right shoulder. Our kiss was long and breathtaking.

We continued down that vein throughout the courtship: on a lifeguard stand at Santa Monica Beach under the stars, in the back row of Manhattan Village Cinema during a showing of Beauty and the Beast, and, well, in my bedroom. Don’t get the wrong idea; he didn’t. He simply hinted devilishly at it on a few occasions. It was a relationship comprised of kissing for the sake of kissing, with no real pressure to get to second base, much less hit one out of the park. Ah, those were the days.

I didn't kiss him just for the fun of it, though. I had another agenda. I needed to shut him up. Talking was not Phil's strong suit. The words emanating from his facial orifice irritated, confused, and contradicted themselves, me, and the greater stratosphere. There was the message, “I’ll pick you up at seven,” when, in fact, he did not arrive until nine-thirty. There were the words, “I’m going to take you to Disneyland next Saturday. We’ll get a locker there, for our stuff.” A locker? I was baffled by this nuance; however, intrigued. In all of my ventures to the happiest place on earth, I’d never been privy to a Disneyland locker. That must be something special!

Two days later, he canceled the trip. What? No, no locker? “An apology would be nice,” I asserted.

With a grumble and heavy sigh, Philip sputtered, “I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault.”

Between the kissing and irksome vociferations, our romance ebbed and flowed into January 13, 1992. On that fateful day, Philip invited me to the Santa Monica Boardwalk for, perhaps, his most dramatic performance to date.

“It’s just not working,” he announced, with the agony of a soap opera character whose evil twin – the one that died in a plane crash fifteen years ago- just reappeared; having survived on a small tropical island unknown to scientists, Oprah and the CIA; to avenge all who wronged him, starting with blood relations.

“You don’t talk enough to me….We’re stopping each other from seeing other people.”

You don't shut up.
"What? You haven’t even given me a chance.”

“That’s not the point,” he proclaimed. “And I don’t believe in second chances, but I still want to be friends.”

“Well, I don’t,” I said, heading for my car. I drove to the nearest shopping mall, perused the stores, ate some fudge, and all was well.

Philip might still be giving his speech right now. I’m glad to have since moved 350 miles away.

After I relocated to the San Francisco Bay Area, he called Brian to get my new phone number. Brian, a loyal friend, refused to oblige.

At the very least, I can still say I had a romantic New Year's Eve once. I hope you can say the same.


  1. Well hey, at least the cheesecake was good. One can never go wrong with cheesecake.

    And I hated Celine back before it was hip. haha

  2. Oh, and I'm doing a perfume giveaway right now if you're interested!

  3. TS, I know it's ignorant of me to ask this, but why does everyone hate Celine so much? She's Canadian, right? xo

    Jen, thanks. I was entering as you were leaving this message. LOL. ;0)

  4. It sounds like there was more to that cheesecake than what was going on in Philip's brain. "Philip might still be giving his speech right now."- beautiful :0)

    Yes, I agree hopefully everyone has had a New Years to remember. Cheers!

  5. This dude sounds a bit dopey. I mean - the fascination with all things Disney. Making out during Beauty and the Beast? Disneyland? He had one bizarre fetish.

    It's a good thing it didn't go on. He would have probably asked you to dress up like some crazy characters. Goofy?

    The locker thing had me totally cracking up.

  6. Well, she is from Quebec and I did always resent being forced to learn French in school when I lived in Canada. However my hatred is pure. I've just never liked her music.

  7. Marnie, thanks. I should drive by that spot on the beach next time I'm in So. Cal. He might just still be there. xo

    Cheeseboy, you always crack me up. Thanks for that. He was a strange, talky, Disney-fetishy, dopey one. ;0)

    Thanks for the explanation, TS. Is that also why everyone else hates her? Or does it have to do with the Water Park in her back yard? Or her lack of a personality? I always thought she had a nice voice, though. xo

  8. Wow, well look on the bright side at you least you had you some chocolate.

  9. My only words of advice : stay away from cheesecakes irrespective of their fancy crust....unless the child in you still wants a disney locker and another goofy in tow....Happy New Year as per the Gregorian Calendar.... ;)

  10. The Disneyland locker must have been for your clothes. I do believe he had rented Mickey and Minnie costumes for you to wear there. He must have chickened out at the last minute.

  11. A girl who deals with break-ups by eating fudge has a lot of respect from me. That is so totally the right reaction.

  12. Phil is my next door neighbor. I told him about your blog. He is thrilled that you still remember him. He will be in touch.

  13. You'll have another romantic New Year's, I'm sure of it. Next time it will be with someone who doesn't bring up Disney lockers. Who brings up lockers when talking about Disney?? He obviously had poor judgment if he let you go!

  14. Too funny - I'm sorry you missed out on Disneyland and that, err, umm locker. I always associate New Year's Eves with random teenage snoggings in cold bowling alleys.

  15. OT, true. Thanks. xo

    Rek, no thanks to a Goofy in tow, but must I give up cheesecake as assurance? Happy new year. =o]

    GB, I should've known you'd figure it out. Thank goodness he canceled. That Minnie costume would've been way too baggy. xo

    Fran, I respect anyone who respects a girl who eats fudge in times of crisis. Thanks.{-:

    PTM, thanks for the warning. I just changed my number. xo

    Margg, me too. Do you have The Cheesecake Factory there? It's the best. :>)

    Kelley, you're sweet. Thank you. xo

    David "random teenage snoggings in cold bowling alleys" - great phrase. It's thanks to you British bloggers that we Americans know a yucky sounding word for kissing. [-:

    PS Does anyone else hate or love Celine Dione and care to explain?

  16. Man, this sounded like it was going to be such a happy memory. Guys truly suck ass. If text messaging was big back then, he'd probably text message break up.

    I do love Cheesecake Factory, but the 90-minute wait time even on a Wednesday always keeps me away. Probably for my own good :(

  17. Yep, he sounds like a freak. I'm glad you moved away too.

  18. Hilarious...

    Life has been lonely lately. I don't mind being single, except for the holidays! The frigging TV commercials about all the romance makes me want to throw up!

    I want a romantic New Year's Eve...and I WANT TO BE LAID!

    NOT GOING TO HAPPEN>>>and that sucks!

    Enuf said!


  19. haha Lisa.. i want to be

    Sounds like he had met someone else early on - what a twat... still be friends..please...

    I like this one Robyn..its a little more personal..

    Thanks for yr friendship this year.
    Hope you have a great New Years Eve and best of luck to you in '11. I have a feeling you won't need it..


  20. Sounds like it was for the best!

    At least there was cheesecake -- and a story. :-)


  21. Safe to say the past many New Year's have been romantic. And continued to next year.
    Sorry about the talker. We usually don't talk that much.

  22. Can you please try and reconnect with him on Facebook and tell us the results? Come on do it for the blog!

    I worked in a restuarant and the only two cassettes (yes it was back in those days!) they had, so played over and over and over, were Celine Dion and The Carpenters. Still can't stick either!

    Rapunzel x

  23. He would be a great lover if he just shust up and does what he does best--not talking!

  24. Ally, 90 mins mid week? That's crazy. I haven't been in years. It's pricey too, but darn good. Happy new year to you. xo

    Babysis, thanks. ;0)

    Lisa, you gave me a good, long laugh. Sorry to mention "good, long" - but we're in the same boat, sista. I hear ya. I recommend a double dose of chocolate with that celibacy. xo

    Anthony, yeah, he did mention a lunch date. The guy thinks he's smooth. I really appreciate your friendship and support. You're the best. ;0) xo

    Pearl, that's right: cheesecake + story = worth it everytime. xo

    Alex, you lucky man. Happy new year. {-:

    Rapunzel, great to see ya. I'll drop by too.
    The Carpenters will live forever, well beyond Celine's third or fourth death.
    You know, I checked facebook. Did not find Philip or Brian. Drats. Be well. xo

    Sarah, exactly. That's probably true for a lot of us (not us, of course) women: If they'd stop the yacking, everything would be perfect. ;0)

  25. Robin, I see now why the posts on celibacy...what a dick that guy was.

  26. Last night I was trying to recall a NYE I had ever even enjoyed, but failed to bring one to mind. Romantic? Nope!

  27. p.s. meant to also say: Happy Noooooo Year anyway!

  28. At the very least the cheesecake was good. lol!

    B xx