Why Overpay on the Eve of Y2K?

No New Year’s slouch, Westminster resident Janohn Bunck wanted to invite a hundred or so of her closest friends to a millennium bash complete with great grub, marvelous music and grown-up glee. Picture a courtyard party with bubbly in stemware, confetti, noisemakers and midnight embraces.

Now rewind.

Bunck’s fete was Nov. 13. That way, she saved money, avoided crowds and didn’t have to give a minute’s thought to possible computer failures due to the millennium bug.

“We really got into the spirit,” she said. “My husband gave a toast. We sang ‘Auld Lang Syne.’ I definitely recommend it. But it’s getting a little late.”

On that other New Year’s Eve (you know, Dec. 31), businesswoman Bunck is taking a more subdued approach--hosting a progressive dinner party with a smaller group of pals.

She’s far from alone. While the terminally hip or enviably affluent may be dashing off to invitation-only theme bashes in Santa Monica or taking millennium cruises, a lot of Orange County residents plan to stick close to home.

They’re attending petite neighborhood parties, watching fireworks with the kids at Disneyland, listening to contemporary Christian music at Knott’s Berry Farm’s Praise 2000 event and enjoying swing and salsa music at a free mall party hosted by the Block at Orange.

First Night Fullerton, for example, expects hundreds of families to take a spin on carnival rides, visit the petting zoo, listen to bands and watch fireworks. Perhaps the best thing is a family of three can attend for about the price of a bottle of Moet & Chandon.

“It’s a very unique event,” said First Night event planner Cindi Malvin. “The most important part is that it’s alcohol free. That’s what a lot of families are looking for. They want to celebrate without feeling afraid to drive in the streets.”

If the minister is available, First Night attendees might just be treated to New Year’s nuptials.

The lucky couple--Ursla Aguilar and Stephen Parks--already were planning their wedding. When the pair learned that First Night was hoping to host a ceremony, they signed on, asking a minister friend to officiate. They were attending the event anyhow (because Parks’ band, Trip the Spring, is playing the event). And the opportunity to have a virtually free wedding--with unlimited guests--was pretty appealing too.

“With the millennium and everything, I thought, ‘Shoot, that’s a good thing to be a part of,’ ” said Parks, who met his bride-to-be 18 months ago at a school for the disabled where they both work as teacher’s aides. “And I’ll never forget our anniversary.”

Though Aguilar feels a bit shy about saying her vows--and probably crying--in front of a few thousand strangers, she’s definitely looking forward to 10 minutes of literal fireworks after their first wedded kiss.

“It’s a great way to welcome the new year,” she said. “And I’ll be able to tell my kids about when Mom and Dad got married.”

Others want to play it more low-key. At the Gypsy Den cafe in Costa Mesa’s Lab Anti-Mall--where a disco ball snowman with flames licking its heels serves as holiday decoration--employees said their preferred party mode is a little more intimate. Really intimate.

“I don’t even want to be around people, that’s for sure,” waitress Erin Barrow said. “I think people are making a big deal about the millennium, and I don’t want to be part of the hype. I certainly don’t want to hear Prince’s ‘1999’ again and again.”