Now that Christmas is past I am in my December doldrums. Why is that? I HATE New Year's Eve. That is right I am a New Year's Grinch.
I have never been one to enjoy bars or big crazy parties. I am a person too inside myself for that. I am crap at making small talk, I hate to dance, and despise loud music. And to me that is the entire hype of New Year's. I think the best N.Y.E that I have ever had is the one that changed 2002 in to 2003 when Mr. Hobbitfeet and I stayed in and played Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets on his new PS2 all night. Seriously. About 15 minutes after midnight we were like "Oh yeah happy new year. Now let's toss some gnomes."
Now I believe the other reasons for this hatred are threefold:
1. Boy's other Grandma almost always has Boy on this day.
2. As a child, my cousin K. and I were forced to play Baby New Years, well past the age when it was appropriate. There were younger cousins, why were we singled out? I know I am scarred for life, most likely K. is as well.
3. Any year that I have done something, it has been awful. I won't go into too much detail, but going out on New Year's has involved uncomfortable sleeps in the floor (once not nearly far enough away from some one's brother who kept loudly and fragrantly farting all night), drink induced sickness, and once, most horribly, a boyfriend purposely spitting his fake front teeth (the real ones having been lost in a high school wrestling match) into my mouth during our New Year's kiss because, in his drunken state, it seemed like a hysterical joke. Actually it led to me immediately dumping him and wanting very much vomit purposely in his mouth to show him how hysterical it actually was.
So while others are making their plans to go to bars and party like rock stars, I try to figure the best way to hide under a large rock until epiphany roles around.
1 hour ago