New Year’s Eve is one of those nights that’s always improved by a little sparkle, a little glamour and glitz – and I’m drawn to that sort of thing like a moth to flame. When Ms. Capere asked me if I wanted to spend New Year’s with her, I was thrilled; she knows how to go over the top. But what would we do? Where would we go? It was a work night for Darling, so we decided against Seattle, and while Capere and I both adore Tacoma, we’ve both spent many, many New Year’s Eves there. Well, then – whither, whither would we fly?
Olympia. Olympia was the answer. And thus, with the help of the ever-delightful Mr. Bennet, a Very Fancy New-Year was conceived. Mr. Bennet kindly offered up his apartment for hors d’oeuvres and cocktails, and as a crash-space after that fatal moment of midnight cheer. With this plan in place, we spent three weeks in rapt anticipation of glitter.
The day arrived; Capere picked me up and we started our hour and a half car ride by rocking out to Taylor Swift.
We arrived in Olympia, met Mr. Bennet, and headed out to get supplies – caviar, cornichons, champagne – everything one would need for a really swell affair. The swift return; the intense set up – and then, the guests sont arrivés. Not all of us were quite done getting ready – we’d taken shifts – so it fell to me to chat with the first arrivals until everyone was done gussying up.
Everyone was gorgeous, everything sparkled, and our energy was high.
At this point, I remembered the (non-toxic) silver glitter I’d brought for the occasion, and all those who felt inclined sprinkled themselves liberally with it. Mr. Bennet doused his whole head in it – I’m so sorry that there isn’t a picture of that, sir. It was glorious.
And then we all mingled and scarfed the delightful appetizers and quaffed vast quantities of champagne, as one does. Everyone seemed to be having a marvelous time.
And then Ms. Capere and I paused to take a selfie, because of course we did. We had just enough time to take several snaps before we all realized that we needed to hightail it to the bus to take us downtown! Andrea and I checked out the schedule –
– and off we went! Once downtown, we proceeded to Jake’s on 4th, of Olympia. Jake’s is a gay bar, and I was overwhelmingly thankful for that.
I have trouble in spaces that are exceedingly heteronormative, even when I’m not presenting as a genderqueer Edwardian. Our group was overwhelmingly queer, anyway – and the straight folks amongst us were staunch supporters, of the sort that give me hope for this planet. My companions all leaped upon the enormous dance floor, while I hied me hence to the fenced smoking arena.
Oh, kittens, there’s so much more – the night was amazing, and I can’t do it justice. I watched a new romance bloom; I made friends with a bisexual transsexual out on the balcony and we discussed religion for an hour, my heart was filled with a surfeit of love for the whole human family. I was with good friends in a space in which it was safe to be fabulous, to be myself. And if that isn’t a good start to the new year, I’m sure I don’t know what is. Happy New Year, Gentle Reader, and I hope yours was at least as half as grand as mine.