It's time for that tired old year to end, and cheers to that, so our champagne swillin' horn tootin' party crashin' bar hoppin' show gal oglin' new year's eve extravaganza starts with a few cool Fizzy French's at home.
Lauren, a kooky gal we met at the Christmas Parade (she got Carol Channing to autograph her knockers) has asked us to her party, so Gene and Joseph lead the way and we are off to her fabulous pad on racquet club drive darling. She is having a retro-tastic party complete with a Moscow Mule making barman, and fabulous Women's Weekly finger food like devils on horseback and cheese stix. fabulous. We take a quick peek through her home, and then ZING! we must away for our movie star dinner reservation at the Riviera darling.
We are dining out on the patio surrounded by fire pits, and the low light is so flattering we are given souvenir torches to read the menu by. We almost el banyo our pantalones when our waiter tells us we can KEEP them!!!!! On the strength of that excitement it's martinis all round, and the dirtier the better.
I suddenly sense the words "FREE DINNER" when I realise my crab salad is LITTERED with crab shells!
Waiter: "How was your appetizer?"
Me: "Well, my crab salad was LITTERED with crab shells"
Waiter: "ha ha ha "
What!? Well that didn't turn out as free dinnerish as expected - Bernadette, how DO you do it?
Luckily a band starts up, the swimming pool we are seated by starts changing colours at regular intervals and the champagne arrives so I spit my crab shells to the wind and carry on as best I can.
Around the time that our bombe alaska's arrive, complete with pyrotechnics, we start to look at our watches because we are off to the Follies starring our lovely friend, and former Mitzi Gaynor back-up dancer, Randy!!
We pick our way through the Riviera lobby, which seems to have filled up with frizzy haired whores and silly little fruitcakes and head to the historic Plaza Theatre.
We walk the red carpet, have our photo taken by fake papparazzi, and start in on our complimentary champagne -ooooh .... MISTER French. Still, we force it down and head into the theatre.
The Follies NEVER disapoints - nanas in leotards and grandpas in wet look vinyl, Vegas showgirl costumes for days, some old Vaudeville ventriloquism, and a tinsel canon at the end. Even the idiot racist homophobic MC seems to have toned it down and there is barely a word about how he knew there were quite a few Mexicans in the audience because he saw a lot of gardening trucks parked outside.
The look on David's face swings from horror to rapture and Brendon looks like he may have lost all the feeling down one side, and then he gets the giggles. Perfect response.
After the last high kick has revealed the last 80 year old clacker clad in nothing but a pair of fishnets and a lycra gusset, it is time for the countdown to midnight!!!!! Complimentary hats, tiaras, whistles and beads have been provided, and brilliantly the countdown and balloon drop all happen at around ten to 12 by my watch.
We head out to the foyer where lovely Randy is waiting for us in a gold sequinned jacket that must be the love child of a Rockettes costume and something from sargeant pepper. Pinch me!
We all head to the Tropicale for a drink and remain there until it transpires there is only us and the staff left. We bid farewell to the lovely Randy, skip out into 2012, and realise ..... we have no idea where we parked the car.
I don't think any new year's eve is complete without the hour long car search. Luckily we are so high on life and comfortable shoes that we happily skip along the back streets of Palm Springs with nothing but our tiaras to light the way until it is found.
Happy new year everyone - 2012 is going to be GREAT!!!!!! xx
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