December 31st, 2011

lake, sunset

New Year's Eve

I kind of love New Year's Eve. I know that the turning of the year doesn't actually change anything (except that it makes it very important to concentrate when writing cheques for a few weeks/months), but it still feels like something special. I love that it's an excuse/motivation to go out and celebrate when everyone else is celebrating too. I love having a reason to wear sparkly nail polish and body glitter and other absurd things that I am theoretically far too old for. I love the countdowns, and the inevitable technical glitches that make the actual New Year a little imprecise. I even love the terrible cheap "champagne" they usually serve in bars on New Year's Eve, and the large crowd of drunken people singing Auld Lang Syne who don't actually know the words, and who clearly don't sing in public very often. 

This may seem contradictory with yesterday's whinge about being over-peopled, but a dance bar is actually a pretty good place for an introvert -- the loud music makes it nearly impossible to have conversations with strangers beyond "excuse me, you're stepping on my toe". And since I am finally mostly over the whole "nobody will ever want me why don't I get hit on by creepy strangers in bars" angst of my earlier years, I can actually relax and just dance, which is a wonderfully fun thing to do, even if it does make one awfully sweaty. 

So yeah. New Year's Eve. We're going dancing. It's going to be fun.

And then tomorrow I'll take a look at 2012, and take a deep breath, and start another turn around the sun.

I hope whatever you're doing to mark this entirely arbitrary demarcation of time, that it's what you want to be doing, and that you can look back on 2011 and forward to 2012 with peace and joy and optimism. Because this is, more than anything else, the festival of optimism.

Now I must go and find more ways to apply glitter.

Happy New Year!