The lesson of 2004 is: Do things impulsively.

At 4:40 p.m. on New Year’s Eve, I was trying to conduct an end-of-the-year phone call with my best friend Deb when I was interrupted twice on call waiting, by ffF Fatih, suggesting we bag any New Year’s Eve plans we might have as individuals and instead hold a spur-of-the-moment party for our new fFs, arriving in the last few days from Istanbul and Buenos Aires.

OK. And we’ll have it at my house, eh?

So we did. And it was the right idea. It only takes a couple hours to lay a tablecloth, light some candles, pour some chips into a bowl, open some wine and throw a CD or two on the stereo. As it turned out, we had a party with four Turks (plus kids), one Argentine (plus kids), and three Americans (plus kids). The kids banged pot lids at midnight and we all had a great time. I did, anyway. Best story of the evening: The Russians had a mobile brothel that rolled around Istanbul for a time, a bus emblazoned “Feel the Difference.” Four rooms, with showers and even a hot tub, picking up and dropping off customers as it traversed this ancient capital. “Feel the Difference.” Can you make this stuff up? You can’t.

Happy new year to you all. I hope your new one is as good as my old one was — the last half, anyway.