This post is not going to be about “looking forward to 2011″ or some shit like that. It’s not going to be a “good riddance to 2010″ post either, because honestly 2010 wasn’t so bad for us.
But in sticking with tradition, my our New Years was less than stellar. I suppose I shouldn’t speak for JPW, but I have had ONE good New Years, count with me. O-N-E.
I don’t remember my first New Year’s away from my parents, maybe it was high school? Probably high school since I was so unpopular and naive in middle school. Well I’ve always been unpopular, but I was naive to think that middle schoolers did stuff without their parents. Sheltered much? The thing is I was never invited to do anything. I vaguely remember being invited to a friends house, I was the only one without a “date” or boyfriend. Awkward, to say the least. Like a fool it happened the following year too….thankfully I could drive and made it home right before midnight, you know, so I could say Happy New Year to my mom and get to bed early.
You would think that my college years would have provided more exciting New Year Eve plans, however, since we were all on break and I went to school 1,300 miles away I was always faced with last minute, thrown together, after thought type plans. “Oh forgot to mention, we’re having a party, want to come?” It’s 9pm on 12/31…certainly it was a pity invite. But because I had nothing else to do and I was trying so hard to not be left out and “go with the flow” I’d accept the invite and head out, to be sorely let down.
Remember I said there was ONE time I had a memorable New Year’s Eve? It was December 31, 2005 and we were ringing in the New Year Vegas style. And because whatever happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas that’s all I’m saying…but it was good and fun and well in my 29 years it’s the only good one on record.
The next two are a blur and well last year I was MOVING with a 3 month old….we pulled into our new home about 10pm on 12/31 and I sat on the floor of Ryann’s soon to be room and nursed her while JPW moved furniture all by himself. Happy New Year, where’s my bed?
And because I like order and routine, this year was no different. We attempted to spend the evening on St. Augustine Beach with friends. Take in the cool salt air, and relax. But right on cue Ryann freaked out, rubbed sand in her eye and decided to let the devil possess her as JPW carried her off to hoof it four blocks back to the car. What can I say, she likes to be in bed by 7:30 every night. And obviously New Year’s Eve was no different. So we took one long, droopy eyed look at each other and hit the hay at 9pm. It was lackluster, but totally worth the nearly 12 hours of sleep.
So when I’m asked what I did for New Year’s Eve and the response is followed by, “oh I’m sorry” or “that’s too bad” I often wonder why it’s sad that I did what I do every other night? Honestly, I’m far too jaded to want to ever go BIG on forthcoming December 31st’s. Save your “I feel bads” for those poor souls who live for that day every year.
But in the spirit of a new year….Happy New Year.
Yeah, Happy New Year.