Wow, I will try not to move a bunch of stuff around or leave any short and curlies on your soap while I am a guest on your blog. When Ninjie asked me to guest blog, I started thinking about what I wanted to blog about and what immediately popped into my mind was the fact that my New Year's Eve has pretty much consistently sucked for the last 10 years. I could do a year by year analysis, but I don't want Ninjie to lose every last one of her readers to boredom. Sufficed to say, my New Year's Eve has basically consisted of hanging out with people I tolerate who also tolerate me, drinking some beverages, going crazy for about 25 seconds right around midnight, then going home and wondering what the hell happened and why I always subjected myself to this ridiculous ritual. Before I found Jesus, I would also smoke a few blunts with aforementioned people, laugh about something that is only funny while high (like world hunger or whatever) and listen to music that was only good while high (like songs written to stop world hunger)... then, we'd get hungry and eat something (like the food we planned to send to hungry people) ... then talk for the whole beginning of the new year about that time in the old year when we all got high and laughed so hard about something that I can't remember now, but if you were only there you'd have peed your pants.
But yeah, New Year's Eve is so darn overrated. You have a couple of choices: you can wedge yourself between the sweaty, groping, unwashed masses in some city center and pray the terrorists don't decide this is the big one...you can hang out at a party with some people all standing around nervously looking at the clock and asking everyone what time it is lest they miss the 25 seconds of fun, or you can get grandma to watch the kid(s) while you and Husband pay $175 for a champagne toast and a fruit and cheese plate. Or, you can stay home and imagine all the fun you are missing as you watch the ball drop as they prop Dick Clark up for one more year (bless his soul).
Or, if you are like Husband-- you can load up the family, drive an hour and a half, and play oldies numbers in the dance hall of a retirement RV park with your dad on guitar, your mom on bass, and some geriatric on drums all playing what seems to be different parts of (maybe) the same song (if you're lucky) and ask yourself as you try and hold the whole thing together with your one guitar: Is this really worth $100 bucks?
Yes, my dear. The answer is, yes.
This year though, there will be none of that. We will be home, just the three of us, and our diabetic cat of course. We are going to go look at the last of the Christmas lights, drink some hot cocoa, get a couple of movies from Netflix, and quietly welcome in the new year together in peace.
I wish you peace in the new year.
Tara blogs at Cupcakes For Dinner, and