Of all the titles I thought of while contemplating this post about my New Years, I felt that this was the most esoteric.

For those of you who think I am the be all/end all of existence, and haven't read this, I shall let you know a brief bit about my New Year's Eve. We ended going with friends to some house that was supposed to be in "the city" but ended up being just outside in an area called Bayview, most likely because of its view of the bay. For those of you unfamiliar with the area, if we had known it was in Bayview, we probably wouldn't have gone. But that would have been a mistake.

After getting off the freeway and driving down a few narrow streets that the term "ghetto" would more aptly apply to than "suburbs", we arrived a what appeared to be a small rundown, century old dwelling. After climbing a series of shallow concrete stairs that would've given a mountain goat pause we entered a magical wonderland of surprise. This house was much nicer than it appeared from the street, and much more spacious than you would believe.

It was indeed built over a 100 years ago, and has been in the current owners family since her great-grandparents built it in the early 1900's. The best part of it was the huge yard they had. There was an enormous treehouse that would make any 8 year old drool, a large cistern looking thing that was actually a sauna, numerous fire pits around the yard for warmth, and the largest Jade tree I have ever seen. The party was great, there was an interesting mix of people, yada yada yada.