For auld lang syne, my dears

Before I went out on New Year's Eve, I began a blog post. It went like this:

For the first time ever, I'm feeling rather melancholic about the old year ending and the new year beginning. And I'm not really sure why. The transition from New Year's Eve to New Year's Day has always been about newness and excitement and fresh starts to me, never about regrets or sadness. Yet here I sit, sad and...what, exactly? I'm not sure. Maybe disappointed. Restless.

I listened to CBC Radio 1 today while I prepared appetizers that I'm taking to a New Year's party tonight. All the different shows have been about looking back at 2007 and even though it was a pretty crappy year, I felt myself yearning for the recent past. Remember that day at work when someone actually SPOKE TO ME? I wish I could relive that. Or what about the weekend I went out BOTH nights? Good times, good times.

Realistically, tomorrow is only one day away from today, but tonight represents the passing of an entire year. It's like I can see the inevitable forward march of time and I have a sense of the impermanence of everything. This is not some, "Oh no! I'm going to eventually die!" thing. My death has never bothered me. In fact, I welcome it. Life is so bloody tough and tiring and filled with sadness that it'll be nice when it's all finally over. No, this is not about me getting older. It's about everyone and everything else fading away. Who knows if my beloved grandma will be around to celebrate Christmas with us next year? Who knows if I'll still be in my fabulous apartment? My job that I dislike? It's a hell of a lot better than nothing and maybe next year at this time that's what I'll have.

Then I ran out of time and had to get ready for my New Year's party. And know what? Something happened at that party. Even though I hardly knew anyone, I had fun. No, seriously - I had LOTS of fun. I underestimated the power of the following:

1. Really nice people who, for some reason, think I'm cool and interesting
   
2. Karaoke
   
3. A litre and a half of red wine

I got unbelievably drunk but I never slipped into bad drunk territory. I sang many songs (Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic, Sweet Caroline, AND MORE!) and I'm sure I was awful at each one. I didn't care. The people were awesome and some were equally as bad. My cab ride home even made me feel good. I gave the driver a nice big New Year's tip and he beamed back at me, telling me that his last two pick-ups had been no-shows but I just made up for his bad luck. By the time I slipped stumbled into bed that night, I was eagerly anticipating the wonderful year 2008 was sure to be.

Looking back on the wild mood swings of my day, I have realized it's ridiculous how extroverted I am. Not in the sense that I'm outgoing (though there's lots of that, too) but more in the sense that I get my energy from interacting with other people. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I love people. I love talking with them and learning about them and singing and dancing and drinking with them. I wish I didn't like people quite so much. It would be great to be one of those introverts who can get their personal power from withdrawing from the world. That way, even if I had no friends, I'd still feel worthy and complete.

Jeez. I spend a day with myself and my thoughts, and I'm gloomy and pessimistic and I wish I was dead. I spend the evening with friendly, outgoing, fantastic people and all of a sudden, the new year doesn't look so bleak. In fact, it looks positively fucking rosy. Ah well, I'll take it where I can get it.

So how about you? Did you have a great New Year's Eve or was it terrible? Are you anticipating 2008 with hope or with dread? Did you make any resolutions? I did. I resolve to be nicer to myself. Well, and other people, too. But mostly myself.

Since this is a bit of a yay-boo post, I'll leave you with something that made me sad and something that made me happy.

I think it's sad we have to put needle warnings like this on little travel sewing kits.


I think it's great that hoar frost still happens. It's even greater that it's still called hoar frost.