They All Sort Of Start The Same

 

I was extremely fortunate to spend New Years Eve with some of my favorite people, in one of my favorite places, with one of my favorite families (aside from my own), even though the fact remains:

I very much dislike New Years.

I can't  put an exact reason to why New Years and I have a rocky relationship, but we've never really gotten along.  I believe it started when I was two (so this goes way back).  My parents threw a New Years Eve party, and had small glasses of sweet champagne on various tables.  Supposedly, I was able to get my tiny hands on one and drank it.  There is actual video of me walking down the hallway later that evening, swaying back and forth and falling down.  Two years old and drunk?  Not a good start, New Years.

In middle school and high school, I remember my mom would let me have friends come sleep over.  She would buy french onion dip and chips, ice cream and toppings for sundaes, sparkling cider, and those little popper-things that smell like burning when you shoot them off.  Those nights were always fun, but I always ended up staying up too late and ending up sick for when we went back to school.  NYE: 2, Hilary: 0.

College always proved interesting, as I would generally want to spend New Years with my boyfriend of the time.  We sort of ended up alternating which friends we would spent it with - one year mine,  the next years his - and they were always so anti-climactic.  I think that's where it all comes from - we have this build up and picturesque idea of what New Years should be like; These crazy expectations of some insane party, booze flying through the air, hot dudes serving drinks and making out with you on the bar, when in reality?  New Years is, statistically, one of the most depressing and over-hyped holidays of the year.

I swear I'm not a Debbie Downer come New Years time.  I go into it every year with an upbeat, positive disposition and attitude.  I always try to make some sort of fun plans that aren't too insane, but involve me doing something great with great people.  Yet, every year, without fail, I end up waking up the next morning totally bummed out.  Not refreshed or recharged, but exhausted and hung over, and sometimes a little sad - none of which is, to me, the right way to start a fresh, new year.

Next year, I think I'll try and get some friends together and do the midnight 5k run in Central Park.  Now that's a way to start a year - who's with me?

Since that was sort of a bummer post, I will leave you with a picture of my cat smoking a cigarette: