Can we all just agree that New Year's Eve is the worst of the string of winter holidays? I would even go so far as saying it's THE WORST of all the holidays. I loved when Stanford Blatch defined a party as feeling very "forced festive". To me, most NYE parties feel that way. The idea that this is a big year-end blow-out and we'd all damn well better make it awesome!
The reason I hate NYE is because it combines two of things I most hate about celebrations: cold weather and crowds. Plus it's during a time of year when everyone has already spent all their money. AND you usually have to the leave the house. ADDITIONALLY, you have to stay up late. It's a big F.U. from me on all this.
I would dare say that some of my happiest New Year's memories have been spent at home in my pajamas with either my child, an S.O. or happily alone. I remember one unforgettable year of moving into a 3rd floor apartment on NYE. I remember many years with board games. A few good parties.
But one NYE I still remember well nearly 30 years later. And it was probably one of the most romantic gestures of my life.
Way back in the 90's when I was about to enter my last semester of college I became reacquainted with the man that would become my first husband. We ran into each other during my Christmas break at home with my parents, and while we were excited to start dating, we already had solid plans with other friends for New Year's Eve. Fair enough. He invited me for dinner at his house a day or so later. I'll never forget being charmed by the hunter green and many mallard ducks of his bachelor pad (Charlotte York would hate it) and his handsome dog/best friend, Rufus. After having cocktails and showing me around, he took me to a clock he had sitting on the kitchen counter and pointed out that it read 11:55 pm. He told me that since we didn't have our New Year's kiss the night before, he hoped we could have it now. We counted down, kissed and had our first dance. "I Only Have Eyes for You". The Paul Simon version.
Well, folks, you can't be a red-blooded 21 year-old college girl and not fall for all of that. But it wasn't fake. He truly was (and probably still is) a thoughtful and romantic man. I'm glad I still have warm memories like that all these years later. It's what helps me remember and be glad that we did have a good marriage (for a few years) and have managed a half-ass friendship while co-parenting our special needs child. I've watched him move on and have a good life with a new wife and child, while continuing to be an excellent father to our son. What can I say? Sometimes you mate with the right one.
And then there are the other ones.
Ones that hurt you. Ones that let you down. Ones that break your heart but you still love anyway. Ones that give you just what you need when you need it. Ones that remind you of who you are and what you're worth. Ones that love you so hard that you almost can't get free. Ones that make you want to run away and never stick your nose out of your house again. But it's all worthwhile. Even as much as it hurts. I'm still a romantic......still a believer. I guess that's why I keep trying.
All I know is no matter how I spend this NYE, that I'll probably stop for a minute and think of all those old memories......old dates, old beaus, old husbands, old friends. And I'm be glad for it. For every one. And for every New Year they helped me usher in.
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