New Years Eve is always a time of celebration to bring in the New Year with friends and family. Whether I'm at home, at a friends house, at a fancy party or sharing a kiss out in the cold, under vibrant fireworks, the last night of the year is always a thunderous one. I haven't always made the best decisions on New Years Eves past but they stood like beer bottles along the kitchen table shouting reminders of why I was spread out on the bathroom floor, clutching my stomach in pain as the past year’s regret settles in and the booze churns tidal waves in my gut. Thank Gaga those days are over.
When I was much younger, my parents and I would spend the special evening at my Grandfather's apartment. Each and every lamp would be emanating light and the heat would be turned up so high it could melt your popsicle. He would flick through the major television networks, skipping the performances I wanted to catch.
After we all survived through the millennium, I started spending the night at one of my closest friend's house. We were lucky enough to have a taste of champagne at the stroke of midnight but we were more excited for the pancakes the next morning. We quickly grew up and I had my taste of crazy parties where we always had fun but were always safe. Once I met my love, New Years Eve became a special night to get wrapped-up in each other. We'd spend the holiday in a full house in New Hampshire, staying up late with great food and mouth watering beverages.
The night has always been a memorable one throughout my history.
For this past New Years, I had planned for months to spend it in Portsmouth, NH with my best friend and her crew. What I hadn't planned was to quickly come down with a head cold three days before. An army combat combination of allergies, cookies, cigarettes, shock and working with the public, my body held out for as long as it could. I can usually stay extremely healthy from Fall till February and was hoping I would pack up and move soon enough to miss it all together this year. Instead of going to Portsmouth, I worked a double and we laid low, watching movies. I slept all day on New Years Day, clutching what I'm about to leave behind.
It is always fun to celebrate with the rest of the world on December 31st but my new year has always begun on April 27th. I usually have to disregard the late New England wintery months of January, February and March since the richness of life lays dormant, dead, cold and depressed. I have always felt more comfortable once April arrives with new life and a streak of color on her back. My birthday has always felt more like a beginning to me, emotionally and physically.
That said, 2011 is a time to spring to life and embrace rebirth earlier than usually. In one week, I create space for growth. In Austin, I can achieve my goals, without writing a resolution, by creative writing, volunteering and learning how to live a happy, healthy and balanced life. Resolutions are usually just an excuse to confidently voice a self fault as if convincing a jury of self improvement. "New Year, New You" is a crock. It may be a new calendar but it's the same "you", eating the same amount of junk food, smoking the same amount a cigarettes, adding up the same amount hours spent in front of the television, after coming home from the same dirty job. Most people don't change. The rest just get worse. The intention is good but the follow through sucks. I'm not saying that sticking to your resolutions is any easier than it actually is, I'm just saying that most resolutions end in guilt. I don't want any more of that so I'm sticking to setting and achieving my goals and actively participating in my own life.