We are probably the only group of now seven humans - there's that artistic license back at it again - who would attempt New Years Eve in London. Now, we still stick out like sore thumbs; so, it's been a great ride thus far. That's right ladies and gents, we drove from Dublin, Ireland to London, England - which took about seven hours including a three-hour ferry ride - on one of the busiest days of the year. But, before we even begin with that part of this epic tale, let us first rewind the tapes a little and focus on this morning. Let me paint the scene for you ...

We awoke bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to smash this journey in record time. Of course, it did not go as planned, because why would anything proceed in a smooth fashion.

When we approached the car, my younger brother and I thought it would be quite fitting to put on a show by claiming that the car got clamped in the dead of night once again. Once the heart palpitations dissipated from our attempt at comedy, we clambered into the turd and drove to the ferry.

My mother decided to assume the role of big spender and reserved fancy chairs on the highest floor of the boat. These chairs were crafted of fine leather and overlooked the Irish Sea as we plunged along the choppy waters.

After a decent breakfast on board with some not-so-decent coffee, I crawled into my chair and took a three-hour cat nap. I needed the rest, but the dream I had felt so real. For some reason, I dreamt that a killer bee invaded the turd, and after I tried to squish it, the bee decided to release yet another bee. This one had a human face and kept stinging me in the eardrum. When I approached my mother, she told me to just deal with it. While it was only a dream, it sounded quite like something my mother would indeed say in that situation if it happened to occur.

Once we exited the ferry, we hopped back in the turd and drove to our lodging in London. This drive took way longer than it was supposed to, but hey, we made it in one piece.

We unloaded the turd, changed into our "party" clothes, and went to dinner first. While here, we ate and drank, just to get the party started. We then drove back to our lodging, called a cab, and headed to the nearest subway (or tube) station, which would take us into London.

To preface: I have intense anxiety when it comes to crowded social situations. It's not necessarily claustrophobia, but it comes close to it. The tube ride into the city wasn't as bad as the tube ride out, but we'll get to that little tidbit in a moment.

We hopped off the tube and walked like 30-minutes to the fireworks, which was where my anxiety hit full throttle. I did not want to get close to the mayhem - people stampeding to the front, drunk men yelling and singing, drunk women half naked and slurring their words. It was my literall nightmare, but once the fireworks display ended, we entered a bar and grabbed a drink or two, which was more my speed.

People are crazy on New Years Eve, which is why I never go out. I'm a homebody; I'd rather drink in the privacy of my own home then dodge puddles of urine and vomit while trying not to be harassed by those who have no concept of reality. I had more fun people watching than actually drinking, which is fine by me. That only means that I have more to write about.

Once we had our fill of the nonsense in the city, it took only two tries and 45-minutes to find a tube that would take us back to our starting point. We got there with barely any incidents ... I mean my eldest brother did open a random car door thinking it was our cab, but we're still living.

Will I ever do this again? No. Did I enjoy it? Yes. All in all, it was a great New Years Eve. Surely a first for me. This year itself has been a whirlwind of ups and downs, but I wouldn't change one experience because everything does happen for a reason. This is the year that I start my career, advance my writing, and move forward with my life. I wish all you avid readers the same - just know that hard work truly pays off in the end. Happy New Year!