A New Year, A Strange Dream

I rung in 2006 in fine fashion over at David and Rachel's shindig last night. David switched his iTunes mix from "mingle" to "dance" around 11 and switched on the strobe lights. The strains of Austin's own Pong got the Wyatt House dance floor hopping, as you can see in this candid photo I took of Rachel and myself.

As midnight approached, we flipped on Dick Clark to watch a tape-delayed broadcast of the Times Square ball coming down. Once the new year arrived, everyone exchanged hugs, champagne and party poppers (the kind that explode, not the kind you snort). Before we could sing "Auld Lang Syne," OutKast brought us back to strobe dancing.

Having heard rumors of sobriety checkpoints, I kept my alcohol intake to a minimum. This had the added benefit of keeping me from taking a nude or nearly-nude swan dive into the Wyatt's enticing hot tub. It was tempting, though.

I got home and fell asleep around 3am this morning. I had a very freaky dream that I had in fact been pulled over in a sobriety dragnet. Only instead of just giving me a breathalyzer, the police ordered me to climb to the top of a 20-foot tall waterfall monument to heroes of the Texas revolution.

After successfully scaling the monument (an unlikely outcome in real life), the police made me take off all my clothes and approach a podium surrounded by TV cameras. Then they gave me a breathalyzer, but I woke up before finding out what the result was.