Drop This Ball Dick Clark

Traditionally New Year's Eve is celebrate with social gatherings spanning the transition into the new year. Mine, on the other hand, was celebrated with a bailey's and hot chocolate and a game of Crib to curb the wrath that the day prior had brought on.

Was New Year's Eve just a conclusion of what the past year has encompassed? Or god forbid, a forshadowing of my year to come? My dating life of 2009 was a force to be reconned with. It was a goddamn disaster. And now, so was my New Year's celebration.

On December 31, I, JiJi, was dumped, axed, discarded, via email. What a way to go. There I was, mowing down a spicy tuna roll with a friend, that little red light on my blackberry begins to blink and I cant resist. Subject reads: "You & I". You know this is a note of doom. At first I laugh, at the sheer audacity of delivery choice of such a communication! Is this the way of the world today? Has it become acceptable to dump via electronic device? I share this news with my fellow sushi eater across the table and he, being he, shrugs it off and offers me more of his Dynamite roll. I am not hungry, the rage is setting in and all I want is booze and cigarettes.

After a 2 hour pity party with my male friend who clearly is not too concerned with my state of being, I think to myself, what cures a broken heart better then a little make out session. And alas, right before my eyes lies the perfect candidate. We've done it before so it would be an easy conquer. I invited, he accepted. A little midafternoon, broken hearted make out session. Did it help the heal? Not a bit, if only 'The Emailer' knew about this.

The day carries on and I meet up with my lesbian friend. Crossing over to the other side is almost appealing after this horrendous dating streak. Instead, we get some ice cream, smoke some cigarettes and she listened to me erupt with rage over 'The Emailer'. No wonder the girls LOVE her. She's cute, caring and willing to listen to a girl bitch. Alas, I fly back to my home city to ring-a-ding-ding the New Year in.

This broken heart couldn't deal with much more then a hot chocolate and game of Crib and then it struck... the flu. And here I lay, aching from my head to my heart, alone in my quaint apartment...and so it begins.