It’s official, Figs: the weather is getting frightful, the mistletoe has been hung, the lights are twinkling–the holidays are upon us! To celebrate, we’ve asked some of our favorite authors to share holiday memories with us. Tune in all through December to get in the holiday spirit!
Jessica Lee Anderson is the author of Calli, a novel about fifteen-year-old Calli and her family. Calli lives happily with her two moms and everything’s perfect–so when they suggest fostering a girl Calli’s age, she’s thrilled. A sister! But things don’t go quite as planned, and Calli finds herself acting in ways she never expected . . . and dealing with the consequences. But if you think Calli’s life sounds tough, imagine Jessica Lee Anderson’s–her friends (and husband!) left her wasting away in a closet on New Year’s Eve.
I don’t have any plans this New Year’s Eve nor do I plan on making any plans. I’m perfectly content to sit on the couch and watch the festivities on television. New Year’s Eve and I don’t have a great history together, not since the day I rang in the new year locked up.
The evening started off well for me and my husband. Our friend had rented a swanky house for the occasion as he planned on proposing to his girlfriend. We dressed up, decorated the house, and the merriment soon began. Our friend was so excited that he didn’t wait until midnight to pop the question. His girlfriend said yes! Cheers rang out loudly and shots were passed around in celebration. The party progressed and a group of my close girlfriends and I discussed changing into our jammies before the midnight countdown. The house was so crowded that I decided to change in a bedroom closet so no one would walk in on me. Dumb idea.
The latch on the closet door was faulty, and once closed, it remained closed. My cell phone had little battery power, but I managed to call several people at the party for help before it died. Nobody answered, not even my dear husband. I pulled on the door so hard that my fingertips bled. I kicked. I screamed. Minutes continued to tick by, and before long, I heard loud cheers in the distance. Midnight had come and gone. Not one soul had checked their phone or looked for me. Hours passed. Just as I started mentally planning on how long I could live in a closet, I heard several voices from the other side of the door.
Finally! I’d soon be released from my prison. “Hurry!” I hollered.
But my rescuers couldn’t get the door open either. Their intoxicated state didn’t help things, but eventually, one of my friends destroyed his credit card to jam the door open. My husband was there to greet me with a hug and a much delayed New Year’s Eve kiss, but the party was over and I was ticked to say the least. Besides all this, I’d been the only one of my girlfriends to follow through on changing into jammies.
That whole incident kind of ruined New Year’s Eve parties for me, and to sour things even more, my friend and his fiancé broke up a short while later. The following year definitely was a New Year’s Eve turnoff as well. My husband had a vomit fest so severe he couldn’t even make it to midnight before crawling into bed. And no, alcohol was not involved. Unbeknownst to us at the time, my husband’s gallbladder was 100% blocked and he soon had surgery to regain his health.
So yeah, I plan to sit on the couch and watch television this New Year’s Eve—NOT in my jammies. Any shows you recommend?