Brillant but messy New Years celebration in Auckland NZ!

 When I was at my Christmas party I heard some of the guys talking about their plans. One of them was the previous manager of the local gay bar called "Family" and he was invited to an exclusive private party at the Hilton Penthouse by the owner of Family. I chimed in that I "needed" to be at the party. He said "Sorry Love, it's invite only."
I said "Oh, but I'd love to go! Is there anything that you can do?" 
"I don't think so....it's invite only" he reiterated.
"Just tell them that I'm from America, and kind of a big deal, and that I need to be there" I said neurotically.


One of the guys chimed in and said "Yes! Just tell him that Miss America is coming!" That has become my nickname here in New Zealand. Miss America. Fitting actually. Fabulous, neurotic, extremely outgoing, and I have a lovely wave. That was that. He said he would try.


My brawny malaysian invited me to a Barbecue at his place with a bunch of guys that I had met over the last few weeks that I was here. The plan was to have drinks and dinner there, and then walk down to the Family bar closer to midnight. The day before New Year's I texted my contact for the posh private party. No response. I thought damn, it didn't come through. How strange because I'm so good at manifesting what it is I desire. But I did what any good manifestor would do, I made peace about it, relaxed and knew in the deepest part of myself that it would work out.


Then on New Year's Eve day I decided I would give it one more shot and sent a text to my contact. He responded with a sincere apology and regrets that I would not be attending. Then the miracle happened. I received a text saying "Good News you're in meet me at the Hilton at 9PM." I was very excited but thought 9PM? Too early. And I wanted to hang out at the Barbecue for a bit with my friends. I decided I would show up a bit late to the Hilton, hang out for a bit at my friends and then cab it down there. I texted my contact and let him know I was running behind. He called a while later and asked how long I would be. I was just getting changed and ready so I told a little white lie and said I was waiting on a cab and would be there shortly.


The Hilton is on the viaduct in the harbor in Auckland. The taxi was weaving between idiot drivers and idiot pedestrians. We rolled all the way down to the end near the water and he dropped me off. My contact for the party met me at the elevator and with security card in hand unlocked the elevator and pressed the top floor penthouse button. I knew I was in for a good time.


The elevator opened directly inside the suite. It was a monstrous 5,000 sq foot penthouse that took up the entire top floor. It was beautiful to say the least. The views were stunning. Windows and balconies all the way around. You could see out over the ocean and on the other side over the city center. It was totally pimp.

I had a good pre-buzz going on and these gents were about to make me transform into fully buzzed. Something I usually avoid at all costs because it vanquishes any hope of maintaining my fabulousness and transforms it into disastrous behavior and situations. But it was New Year's...right? They were pouring Veuve Cliquot like it was water and there was an open bar. It was an intimate party, which felt strange in such a ginormous place. 


I had a good time and met some fabulous guys. There were several plastics and misfits aboard the Queen Hilton Penthouse. One guy that I made out (remember disastrous situations from before) was wearing basketball shorts and a collared shirt. He was remarkably pretty but a hot mess none the less. I was told after my make out session that he was a ''rent boy" aka gay for pay. Well I got mine for free, not that I would have paid for that under any conditions. Guess I was still on the fabulous side of my drunkenness at that point.


Then came the vodka and red bull. Oops (picture innocent smile) and it was on. Usually I avoid mixing alcohols i.e. fine french champagne and vodka. But it's New Year's right? Then the fireworks over the harbor started. An elitest view that was only shared by the Rich and Famous, their underlings, and fabulous leeches like me. The fireworks, from what I remember, were amazingly vivid. It was if you could reach out and touch them.


After the fireworks my phone started vibrating with notifications that my group was at the infamous Family bar, owned by my Hilton Host. I decided to depart. I was trying to go down to have the door man get me a taxi, but he told me that would be near impossible and that I should either walk or wait it out till later. I decided to go back up to the party but the elevator was locked, I was confused and drunk. I walked out into the street. I found a lone taxi that was unoccupied. I asked him politely if he was waiting on someone and he said he was. Then I asked him how much it would cost for me to get take his taxi to "k road" where Family was located. He said "no man, I'm waiting for someone." with an indian accent.
I said "40 dollars?"
He shook his head.
"Sixty?.....a hundred?"
He reluctantly starred at me and nodded his head yes. I said "Well how much then?"
He said sixty.
I rationalized this expense as realistic because it was literally impossible to get a cab at that time and I hadn't spent a single dollar all night, and wasn't planning on drinking any more that night. After all it was only forty-ish US dollars anyway.


We weaved through the drama that was the New Year's crowd down on the viaduct and arrived sometime later at the Family bar. When I arrived at the door I said to the door man "Hey I was just at Wayne's party at the Hilton mind if I skip the line." He looked at me as if I was some kind of fast talking scam artist. In response I said "Seriously man I was just at his private party at the Penthouse, can you take care of me?" (Scandalous name dropping manipulative drunken bitch~all fabulousness has disappeared).

Finally he wrapped my wrist with a pink bracelet no cover charge and shoved me into the party, which by the way sucked. It was wall to wall with... well the lyrics from David Guetta's song sexy bitch " I'm trying to find the words to describe this girl without being disrespectful.... " come to mind, with mostly bitch and a splash of sexy. 


Dominating the dance floor can make you friends, and on a night like New Years Eve it can also make some enemies. A lot of people were having fun with me and dancing their little asses off, but there always has to be one bad apple. This little 12 year old twinkie decided he was going to edge me off the dance floor so I booty bumped him off the stage. I'm glad I didn't hurt the little thing, but he was pissed. (Proof that fabulousness and grace had left me and the evil of alcohol had taken over.) I exited and met up with my friends. This seedy bar has two floor. I made my way to the subterranean level aka the basement that was filled with fog and perspiration and just general shadiness. The air was so thick down there it seemed to take my buzz, which at this point was at saturation, to the level of black out. It was no bueno. General sensory overload, nausea, & fatigue plagued me. I went out side to get some fresh air. 


Family bar is located on "K road" the shortened version of Karangahape Road. It's slightly shady and lined with bars and adult shops and intersects with the more respectable and famous Ponsoby Rd. This community is well off and most houses are in the NZD$1mm range. It's classy with beautiful cafes, boutique shopping, and very nice restaurants. Excuse me, I digress. I shared a bench outside of the Family bar and all types of people were out. It was a fun, mostly drunk crowd, and I was feeling somewhat fabulous again and very friendly. I went on to spanking cute people and kissing girls on the mouth, wishing everyone a Happy New Year!

After making another round through the bar I decided to go home, but not before stopping at a Kebab place and getting a snack with hot chili's. I hailed a cab and went home to pass out. 


The next day I went with some friends to Piah beach. Piah has black sand and is beautifully situated in gorgeous rock formations. This beach has a reputation for having extremely dangerous rip tides carrying weary swimmers away without chance of rescue. My Malaysian friend and I rode the waves and found it to be the most healing experience for our extreme hangovers. 


This year I have made no resolutions, only to continue to find my happiness in life and follow the guidelines when it comes to drinking. No blacking out, no puking, and maintaining my fabulousness under all circumstances. All rules that I violated on the very first day of the year. There are 364 days to go and I think I have a good chance at maintaining my contract with myself. Happy New Year! Here's to living a fabulous life filled with happiness, love, celebration, and all that your heart desires!