New Year’s Eve. A million people pressed together in Times Square. Champagne bottles popping open, streamers flying around, the ball dropping. People cheering, kissing strangers, stamping their stilettoed feet in the cold.
Why join in that kind of fun when I can curl up under a fluffy blanket, eat takeout Chinese food, and watch a movie?
So, no, we don’t have any traditions. Not yet. For at least three New Year’s Eves since we’ve been together, Husband was down in Joshua Tree taking awesome photos. I think I stayed in, played solitaire on the computer, and cuddled with our cat. I’m thinking we should institute takeout Chinese food as a tradition, coupled with a movie. Maybe solitaire. The Stay-At-Homies New Year’s Eve. For the New Year’s Eves he’s been at home, we haven’t done much.
We’re really fine with just sitting around. We’re very good at sitting around, actually. But having a tradition sounds cooler. Do you do anything for New Year’s Eve? Have any suggestions for a couple who would really rather be warm and comfortable than wearing fancy clothes and shivering?
Resolutions? Making any seems too much like tempting fate. Any resolution I’ve made in the past has been broken. I like that David Sedaris short story where the guy’s jerk mother agonizes over her resolutions every year, writing, erasing, rewriting, and erasing so hard that she destroys multiple index cards. And even though she never changes into a nice person, her resolution is always the same: Be good. (Sorry, Mr. Sedaris, for spoiling your punchline. Everyone else: the rest of the stories in that book, Barrel Fever, are hilarious, so…yeah. Buy a copy or something.)
So my resolution is to remember my challenge to myself (The Challenge of Turning 30) and to actually, um, do something about it (the clock is ticking, people!). And to be good.