New Year's Eve: A Night to Remember That I'm Having a Little Trouble Remembering

Today most of last night is a bit of a blur. That will happen the day after a New Year's Eve spent accepting one Jack and coke after another from fellow revelers when you'd already reached your limit about an hour earlier.

This much I know for sure: 1) All night, I only saw one single firework (an homage to Katy Perry's hit?). 2) Unlike in New York City, Buenos Aires, London, Bogota and Cordoba, Argentina (all places where I've spent New Year's Eves in the past 10 years), it was ridiculously easy to get a taxi.

3) A U.S. expatriate named Brendan (my favorite guy's name circa 2001) to whom I was introduced several weeks ago, asked me for my email address and proceeded to send me an email with his first and last name in the body of the message, but for what purpose, I'm not completely sure. 4) I have another expatriate -- this one from Mexico, whom I met a few weeks ago through my friend David, strangely absent from DJ Station's NYE festivities -- to thank for getting into a taxi and safely on my way home. I hope he wasn't too disappointed that I declined his invitation to join me.

5) The taxi driver, who like so many others seemed to know less about getting around Bangkok than I do, dropped me off a few blocks from my hotel, so I had to walk part of the way home wearing a Santa Claus cap. 6) Yes, a Santa Claus cap! It was a gift -- or maybe a stolen memento -- from a cute Scandinavian guy with a much smaller head than mine whose name completely escapes me. 7) I woke up this morning in bed, surrounded by french fries.

Which brings me to the one New Year's resolution that I'm determined not to break: No more 3am fast-food binges at Burger King, which is right next door to Silom Soi 2, the alley that DJ Station calls home. It shouldn't be too hard since I'm leaving Bangkok in two days, so I no longer will have to worry about being lead into temptation after a night at DJ Station. And the good news about last night's heart-unsmart binge is that since there were so many french fries in bed with me and scattered on the floor in the bedroom and kitchen, that means I only ate a few of them. (I don't know what's up with the girl who works the late-night shift at BK. She always gives me twice as much food as I order.)

Oh, yes, and aside from the french fries, I woke up alone, which, considering all of the options last night, was the first miracle of the new year.