New Year’s Diabolical Eve

Happy New Year!  December 31st is usually a time for people to reflect upon their previous 12 months and learn important life lessons from that analysis.  I’m not doing that this year. Instead, I’d like to reflect on the ridiculous New Year’s Eves I spent in my younger days.

There is, of course, lots of anticipation about how to celebrate, especially when you are in your twenties and oh-so-fabulous.  Perhaps out with friends, or your significant other, or the whole dang town.  Maybe a city-wide celebration with balloons and fireworks midnight. The night’s going to be awesome!  Woo hoo!

Soooo much excitement leading up to the big night.  I don’t know about you, but my NYE usually ended with:

(A) My outfit ruined by spillage from myself or a fellow reveler.

NYE 1999 has the dubious distinction of being my worst NYE ever.  Look at that poor me - I have no idea what a crap night I'm about to have.

NYE 1999 has the dubious distinction of being my worst NYE ever. Look at poor me – I have no clue what a crap night I’m about to have.

(B) Way too much drink for my comrades and/or myself.

(C) Some kind of disagreement with a significant other that results in raised voices on a street corner.

(D) A failed attempt to find a cab home at 3am, which leaves the group stranded, huddled together to keep warm in sleeveless, sassy dresses that were so cute only hours before. And strappy shoes that present our toes like little icy offerings to the gods of cruel winter.

(E) All of the above.

And let’s not forget the game of dodge-the-drunk-driver on the way home.

I finally figured out, after a decade of failed attempts, how to have a successful New Year’s Eve.  December 31st, eight years ago, Corey and I moved into our house.  It had been a long moving day, as moving days always are.  He was asleep by 10:00.  I was stretched out with our dogs on the comfy couch, in the first home I ever owned, with a glass of wine and a great book.  It was a completely satisfying way to ring in the new year.

Some years I’d like a little more fuss than a book and the couch, but I don’t ever feel the need to don sparkly earrings and trot myself into 14-degree weather in horribly painful shoes. This year I’m staying in again.  We have a bottle of champagne ready to go soon, because there is no way we’ll be awake at midnight.  And I’m perfectly okay with that.

As I sit here in my pajamas, I’m wishing you a beautiful, stress-free evening to ring in 2014.  If you do experience any of the calamities mentioned above, you have an open invite for NYE 2014 to snuggle with our dogs on the couch.

Woof.

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One Response to New Year’s Diabolical Eve

  1. Aunt LaLa says:

    Couldn’t agree more! Happy New Years!

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