What New Years Eve Means to Me
I do not like New Years Eve. I would even go so far to say that it rivals Halloween for my “Least Enjoyed Holiday” award.
“But why, Angela? New Years Eve is a time for new beginnings! A chance to start over!”
New Years Eve is the single worst night of the year for anybody not in a relationship (way worse than Valentines Day, a holiday I actually enjoy). Not only is it 100x harder to make plans because all of your friends are just going to hang out with their boyfriends, but then you have the added pressure of having somebody to kiss at the magical moment of midnight which brings me right the f*ck back to freshmen year of high school when I was the only 9th grader that didn’t have a senior to dance with at Freshmen Reception.
I have never had a midnight kiss on NYE. This is partly because I’m a loser, and partly because I have standards and don’t want to ring in the new year with a sloppy, drunken moment of regret and repulsion.
I remember one New Years Eve about five years ago. I was at a party in Boston when an old classmate drunkenly put his arm around me and told me I was his “midnight makeout.” I feigned a smile and looked down at his clam chowder-stained shirt (why you would ever combine booze with clam chowder is beyond me)- tempting, but I would have to pass. But how? As midnight drew closer the vibe in the room grew more and more awkward. At 11:59 I grabbed my beer and headed outside. A group of girls ran by me, “Get back inside it’s almost midnight and we’re all going to kiss!” Ah, my first lesbian experience? Another tempting way to begin the new year, but instead I sat outside in the drizzling rain and listened as the clock struck midnight and everybody inside turned into pumpkins.
“But Angela, what about your New Years resolution?”
I don’t believe in resolutions. Resolutions are just ways of putting off character flaws that you already know you have and are too lazy to work on presently, so instead you vow to change on January 1st and inevitably clutter up my gym for the next three weeks.
Days, weeks, months, years- they’re all relative. They’re just a way for us to keep track of how old we’re getting, when the seasons will change, when to do our taxes, and when to make our next dentist appointment. Yet every year on New Years Eve, we’re forced to look back on our year and reflect on the good and bad, and hope that it will be better the next time ’round.
So, let’s see- I did a lot of stuff in 2010. I bought a car, quit my job, moved from my small-ass hometown to the biggest city in the world, sold my car, and started a new job. I went through three cell phones and three phone numbers in the span of three months. I flew across the country- twice. I went to countless concerts, festivals and small, sweaty club shows. I rode on buses, trains, subways and airplanes. I lost some great friends, I gained some new ones.
And that’s life.
From everybody at Buntology- Happy New Year and keep up the good work.