Jun Dishes

verb/diSH/ : food or sex or gossip or fiction in real life

New Year’s Eves Past

I’m counting today as New Year’s Day, because yesterday I was part-zombie and so yesterday doesn’t count. I thought about how each and every New Year’s Eves past have been so different. I looked through old photos…



NYE 2007, Paris: Under the Eiffel Tower and before I fell in mud.

 2009NYE 2008, NYC: I seriously don’t remember where I took this photo.

 2010UmNYE 2009, Southampton: Don’t ask.

 2011NYE 2010, Times Square: We were right under the ball and yes, I’m wearing a tiara.


My husband of 10 days, Davy, and I had just had dinner right by Times Square on New Year’s Eve. Purposely. I’d never been anywhere near Times Square on New Year’s, purposely, my whole life in New York City. But my Belgian husband really wanted to have the Times Square experience only people living outside of New York ever want, and we were on our honeymoon. So I gave in.

There was an hour-and-a-half left to the new year. We ran over to some cops who weren’t letting anyone go anywhere near 7th Avenue. But Davy shouted over everyone to the cops. He told them the whole story of he and I met in the Dominican Republic six months before and that we just got married and we were honeymooning before I’d move to Belgium next week. It was all true and the cops loved it. They let us right in and right under the ball in time for us to get some unreal photos!

So the one time I did what I said I’d never do, I did on my honeymoon.

That’s fair.


It’s 2014.

My New Year’s Eve 2013 was spent in two parts. Part one was wholesome with family and friends and lots of cheese and bread and yummy wine, and Noah running around yelling Happy New Year (in two syllables). Part two picked up with me and Davy with the house to ourselves and Noah sleeping soundly at grandma’s. Part two ended hours of some fine champagne and sex later, and then our neighbors came home from wherever they were for New Year’s Eve. The lady next door, in the house attached to ours, let her abusive boyfriend come back. They fought for hours on New Year’s morning while Davy and I tried to sleep but ultimately couldn’t.

All of which is why I was a sleep-deprived zombie yesterday.

And that’s why yesterday doesn’t count.

Cheers to 2014 everyone and Happy New Year!

Always dishing,


P.S. I have no photos of this New Year’s Eve and even if I did I wouldn’t show you anyway!


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