Well, New Years has come and gone, and I'm happy about that. I think the December 31 annual gut-blowout is an over-rated one. Perhaps that's because I have post-traumatic New Year's Eve syndrome from the years gone by.
About 30 years ago, I ran into an absurdly awful stream of bad New Year's Eve happenings. I don't remember them all, and the ones I do remember are kind of funny now. Thankfully none of them were truly tragic, but they were just disappointing because I totally bought into the hype that your New Year's plans must be fabulous, your company enthralling, and your locale breathtaking if you wanted to continue having any more of the same during the next calendar year.
After one particularly crappy New Year's Eve where I attended a party where 30 people were expected, but only 3 showed up (counting me, who felt too bad to leave the hosts and depart for a better party), I decided working on New Years was the ticket. The first year, I evacuated my workplace due to a bomb threat, and the year after that, I stood on the lawn in freezing rain with a walkie-talkie as the people who'd rented my place of employment for the night attempted to set off fireworks to no avail. I got pneumonia. After that, I spent a couple of New Year's Eves with truly awful dates, and after that, I just gave up.
But the last New Year I celebrated, back in 1990, found me at a beautiful mountain resort, in a glamorous evening gown, dancing the night away and drinking champagne. At midnight, my date and I retired to the huge fireplace in the lobby and a bellman brought us two glasses of champagne.
New Year's was great that year. Mission accomplished. And right then, I decided to quit while I was ahead. Ever since then, I have a nice dinner and am sound asleep at 10 p.m. and wake up refreshed and happy on January 1. I think it's better this way.
Besides, whose New Year is it anyway? Jewish New Year is in September, and everyone from the Vikings to the Romans celebrated the Winter Solstice as the beginning of another year. The government's own fiscal year runs from October to October, and some Neo-Pagans I know think the New Year starts November 1. So perhaps it's all much ado about nothing.
But one thing I do know. If you consider this first day of the calendar year to be an auspicious occasion, where what you do and feel will set the tone for the entire year to come (as many seem to superstitiously believe) I can tell you that hugging the toilet to unload your last load of alcohol, or grabbing the Tylenol to ward off a hangover headache, is probably not a good tone to set. Not telling anyone what to do at all, I'm just sayin'.
I'm not a superstitious person, but meeting January 1 with a clear head and hopeful heart can't hurt anything, you know?
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