Good-bye Old Year, Hello New

I had never been a lover of New Year's Eve--

too much pressure to wear high heels and a silly hat, while balancing a glass filled with substances I don't particularly like--

until  "New Year's Eve" became synonymous with "Baxter Time".

Baxter Time in any capacity is time well spent.

(Baxter Time is also well planned, thank you Adam.)

The typical pressures are removed, 

since I can walk around in just my socks

while other people wear silly hats.

(Just kidding Nathan, you know I love that hat.)

There is, however, a little bit of pressure still involved:

The pressure to perform in activities slightly outside of my comfort zone.

Linked to the latest Christmas gifts, 

past years have included Guitar Hero and other various Wii activities designed for me to fail. 

This year's humiliation of choice?

Dance equal to (or much much less than) Michael Jackson.

Hm.

(If we are talking about humiliation, let's conveniently forget to mention the foosball tournament I lose in--less than or equal to--3 minutes).  

Fortunately, I am not the only one ever caught in situations that might come back to haunt,

and for evidence-- 

I give you:

and:

Really, the small pressures involved in embarrassing one another are worth it, in that they lead to much opportunity for hilarity.

You see, with games and movies (and endless quoting of movies, particularly by 3 younger males) and shopping and eating and tea and cookies and talking and teasing making up all of our time together,

we find ourselves just endlessly laughing.

And laughing--I have come to learn--cannot be genuinely performed if genuine pressure is involved.

So, now that the old year has passed gracefully away and the new one has dawned bright and fair in the company of these old and dear friends,

I only feel pressured to tell you:

I am one blessed girl.

(My glass runneth over--

with things I DO particularly enjoy, beyond what I deserve.)