…I figured by now you’d be over being over seeing others talk about “New Year, New YOU!” and other such nonsense, to which your response should always be – “guess what? Current me is already kicking plenty of @$#, so…enough with your diet plans I won’t follow for more than five hours.”
I generally hate this “holiday,” different from my usual “holidays are amazing!” mantra. I think this one tends to get too built up in our minds, especially when you are a single girl. According to most films, you will find true love on this night (thanks, When Harry Met Sally, Bridget Jones Diary). Or at least make out with a hot stranger who is actually your soul mate you haven’t met yet.
For me, almost thirty, newly single, working a double on NYE (on purpose, trying to stay as busy as possible on national holidays when you “should” be on a date), I was dreading this day with the kind of loathing I normally save for gynecology appointments and talking on the phone. I got off my second shift a little early, and the boys were appalled by my plans to do nothing, encouraging me to
make bad decisions go out:
Guys: “Get dressed up and go dance with strangers! Throw your phone number around the bar! Make bad choices!”
Me, wringing my hands together, grinding teeth: “Really? I don’t know. That might not be a good idea.”
Guys: “No, no, it’s great! Do it! You’re still kinda cute! Someone will kiss you!”
Me: “I’m not sure that’s what I want -”
So I left work, determined to go out and have fun! YOLO! Butterfly becomes the caterpillar! There’s no “I” in “TEAM!” (not sure if those apply here)
But by the time I got home, I was determined to take a really long bubble bath with a really nice (read: six dollar Rex Goliath) bottle of wine, scrolling Pinterest for workout plans and crockpot recipes I’ll never follow up on.
I got in said bath, and wrinkled until about 10:30pm. Then I stood up and said “You know what? Somewhere deep inside me is a person who is still cool, who used to go out dancing Tuesday-Saturday, who was the life of the party, and she should NOT be drowning in sage-flavored bubbles in nowhere north Durham!”
I ran downstairs, threw on clothes, and went to enjoy life.
Somewhere along this path, I forgot to eat any dinner. After a few glasses of bubble bath wine, and then some beers, this bad decision caught up to me. I maaaay have text messages I regretted. Winky face. But after kissing nothing but a lovely California IPA (because CALIFORNIA!) at midnight (high-fives self), I happily poured myself into a cab around 1am.
I made best friends with the cabbie, as you do, and offered extra money to take me to a McDonalds, which we were unable to find in the remote area where I live. But we had about thirty minutes together, so Michael, my cabbie from Iran, asks “why a pretty gull like Rachelle all alone on the New Years Evening?”
I summarized my tale of woe. And he locks eyes with me in the rear-view and says, “Rachelle, you seem very special to Michael. I know you will finds handsome man to love you so much like you deserve. Treat you like princess.” I started to tear up a bit, but he continued, “here is my card, and when you need a ride, please call Michael. I give good rides.”
So, it ended a little less poetically than I was hoping. And everyone laughed when I rolled up to work in a yellow mini-van the next day, but I triumphantly announced “Responsible!” and mic-dropped my car keys before donning my apron and detailing the events of the night to my co-workers. I felt good about life.
I think resolutions are pretty stupid, as I said. And I think we should also only make ones we’re almost guaranteed to achieve. Here are mine:
- Finish a bottle of nail polish. Pretty sure it’s never been done.
- Overcome fear of squirrels.
- Make everyone around me gain 40lbs. I’d say “lose 40lbs,” but I’ve decided to be more realistic.
- Do things in odd numbers.
- Eat, drink, and be merry.
- Indulge in the Oxford comma.
- Make ’em laugh.
The one I most like to keep every year is to make resolutions a few weeks after the year has technically began. Less time you have to pretend to keep them.
Doing well on that, so far.
Here’s to 2014.