If this makes any sense, well, maybe there is something to the old notion that the best writing is done while drunk. I’ve never believed it, but I couldn’t pass a breath test anywhere on the planet, unless there’s a legal limit of .15 out there somewhere. I might be able to beat that. Maybe.

We ushered in the new year in a manner I rather like — in our own teeny apartment. On the teeny patio of our teeny apartment, actually.

Before our little party broke up, however,  the four of us had killed two bottles of champagne and two bottles of white (it’s still warm down here; give us a break), and I did my share of the damage. Actually, I can hardly feel my face,  and it’s two hours since I stopped drinking champagne. OK, sparkling wine (from South Africa.). But that’s what happens when four people drink four bottles.

And I am here to say, after spending the 2008 holiday season in Hong Kong and the 2009 season in Abu Dhabi, that South Africa has figured how to make some pretty good wines. Invictus, indeed.

We rang in the New Year (and why is it rung in? Why not “whimpered in” or  “accepted as an historical inevitability and shrugged in”?)

We had a couple of our American friends over to the teeny apartment, to count down the end of 2009, and we spent most of the evening on our teeny patio, taking advantage of the UAE’s temperatate winter. We brought out the two new inside/outside Ikea chairs (and if you love Ikea now, try moving to the other side of the world … you will want to marry Ikea) and let the guests sit in them. We also had a little step-stool that I sat on, and the step that leads into the house for Leah to sit on, and we were fine.

Let’s, see, what did we figure out?

One of our guests somewhat gloomily wondered what the “good news” out of the last decade was. Was there any? At all?

Well,  hmm. Now that you put it like that. Death and destruction. Wars and terror. Pollution.

I suggested small stuff. Like the end of hostilities in Sri Lanka and Mozambique, and maybe something resembling a rope around AIDS. Still killing people but maybe not killing more?

Later on, our other guest announced that the decade would be remembered for two devastating events that bracketed the decade — 9-11 on the one end, the global economic crisis on the other.

Leah, Ms.Good News, seemed to prefer to go with the “economic boom between those two dates” … and, well, 2004, 2005 and 2006 certainly were good for real-estate agents, bankers, loan officers and speculators. That is, everyone who got in (and got out) ahead of the bust of 2008.

Two of us started slowly, with a bottle of Chardonnay. Then two co-workers who had trouble getting out of the office early, showed up, and we picked up the pace a bit. A bottle of Pinot Grigio, and then a bottle of the bubbly (technically not champagne; too expensive out here, with the 30 percent tax; it’s essentially “Prohibition” here in the UAE) .

We finished the other bottle of white (the Pinot), then moved on to the Creme de Bourgogne one of our guests had, quite thoughtfully, brought along. A pink sparkling wine. Quite nice. Especially with the cheeses we put out (a Blue d’Auvergne, a Brie, an Emmental), as well as the summer sausage and some grape leaves.

Then, as we counted down the last seconds on a wretched decade (I’m not so sure it was that bad,  but I was in the minority) via an application on our laptop, I popped the cork on a South African sparkling wine by the name of Desiderius Pongracz (and if you know what that is, you’re a better oenophile than I) and then we all toasted the New Year, even though a year ago we couldn’t have imagined the four of us would be sitting in a patio in the Muroor district of Abu Dhabi on New Year’s Eve … and a year from now we may be scattered all over the world.

The important part of this being … it was pretty good.

It was a fine way to usher in another year. Though I saw no need to hurry 2009 along, I was, again, outvoted.

Till this point, we had been sitting in our tiny patio, with the door to the street open, and probably breaking some law (drinking within sight of the locals) … but it actually got almost too cold to be outside (like, 65), so we moved inside, and killed the South African and most of the bleu and most of the stuffed grape leaves.

We talked about how the International Herald Tribune was the greatest gig in the history of (mostly) American journalism, and mused about what might happen next in our profession, and talked about this most peculiar country (the UAE) and the future of journalism and, well, then it was 2 a.m., and somebody had to get home.

That’s the thing about New Year’. You note it with your favorite people who are within reach. And we were lucky to have two good ones.

We walked them out to a cab, and one pulled up just as we hit the corner, and isn’t that nice? And then I came home to do some blogging, even as I felt genuinely buzzed for the first time all night. Great timing. If this makes any sense at all, maybe I’ll make a habit of this. Though I don’t feel as much creative as overpoweringly sleepy.

Oh, and the neighborhood. At about 10 I made what was (in retrospect) a ridiculous suggestion to walk around the neighborhood as 2010 made its debut. To get a sense of how our neighbors celebrate!

As it turned out, in my part of the burbs the locals did … nothing … when it hit midnight. Couldn’t hear one firecracker, nor a single shout, or any party, or anything. Kind of sad,  really. And I was glad no one had followed me to a wild Grey Goose chase into the non-celebrating neighborhood.

The thing about Abu Dhabi? You’re pretty much in charge of making your own fun. Can’t expect anyone else to help you along. This is not a frivolous place. Even as one year turns to the next.