Friday, December 31, 2004

Staying In

For the first time in what must be about 12 years, I’m going to be staying in and seeing in New Years with my parents. This is because The Cold has not yet released me from its cruel mucusy grip (Look, I hate to keep going on about The Cold. I’m not a hypochondriac, in fact I’d say I’m quite blazé about my health, and updates on little sniffles aren’t destined to become a feature of this blog. It’s just this has been quite a cold. I promise). A part of me is quite disheartened by this – it feels like a bit of a step back, and also I’m a bit disconcerted that my 13-year old self was on the receiving end of more inveiglements to vital social gatherings than his 23-year old counterpart.

But it shouldn’t really bother me – I really dislike New Years. There’s something about the forced anticipation and excitement which I find slightly unwholesome. It gives me the same queasy feeling as Hen-mania. When I find myself faced with people who, during and prior to the night, are hell bent on making it out to be the highlight of their year, I can’t help but if they genuinely feel this way, and if so why? And if not, why do they feel obliged to pretend? Where does this pressure come from? I mean, it’s not as if many peoples’ lives dramatically alter with the new calendar year, so why feel the necessity to attach any significance to it? And sometimes, finding myself in the midst such people, all seemingly in agreement that a truly special occasion is nigh, I begin to question myself and wonder why I don’t find New Year at all meaningful like they do and can't muster some excitment and good cheer, and let me tell you, 12.02am on the 1st of January is not a good time to be feeling isolated and unsure of your own approach to life in a pub packed out with morons trying to drape their arm over your shoulder and sing some Scottish dialect with you (and anyway, it’s “For auld lang syne”, not “For the sake of auld lang syne” you ignorant fools). And thank God, I’ll get to avoid the countdown, where one has to grimace and possibly do that thing with your head where you jut it from side to side it to emphasise each count whilst people surrounding you (surely surely pretending?) whip themselves up into a frenzy.

2004 has been a fairly good year for me. It’s not up there with the Vintages of ’97, ’99 or ’02, but there were some great times and it didn’t treat me badly. It certainly didn’t do any harm.

No comments: