I don’t do New Year’s Eve. Call me a party pooper if you like, but I really do not enjoy it and never have. It’s never anywhere near as much fun as we all convince ourselves it’s going to be every year, for a start. I honestly can’t figure out what’s fun about freezing your arse off in, say, central London, crammed in with thousands of other cold, drunken, slightly annoyed people, watching a few fireworks that you can see just as well (and without all the crowds) on your TV screen at home.
Then there’s the clubs. Just because it’s NYE, ticket prices suddenly go through the roof, the line-up is half-hearted at best, the drinks are both watered down and stupidly expensive, and the place is invariably full of idiots on far too much of whatever the current drug of choice is, drooling and windmilling round the dancefloor in a deeply annoying fashion and incoherently trying to chat up inanimate objects (and the occasional actual person). The loo queues will be like the first day of the January sales, and you have to freeze half to death outside if you want a cigarette. Um, no.
Just. Not. Interested.
And all that’s before you have to even think about getting home at the end of the night. Free public transport, yes, but free public transport full of lairy drunks, gaggles of screeching teenagers and the inevitable sleepyhead who passes out in a pool of vomit at the back of the night bus and ends up at Heathrow or somewhere else equally remote to the average Londoner.
Negotiating all that takes nerves of steel and a well-sharpened pair of elbows. It seems to take forever to get home to your cosy bed when you’re freezing cold, just starting to sober up, and you’ve got to battle your way through the drunken hordes to even get on the bus in the first place. The year it took me five hours to get from Croydon (in south London) to Hounslow (in west London) was the straw that broke the camel’s back, as far as the relationship between me and NYE parties is concerned. We haven’t really been on speaking terms since…
I don’t make New Year’s resolutions either. I just don’t see the point. Most of us set our sights far too high and end up breaking every single resolution we make. Like everyone else, there are major changes I’d like to make to my life, but it makes more sense to approach these gradually, bit by bit, instead of jumping in feet first, getting overwhelmed and giving up.
You see them every year, round about the beginning of January, looking uncomfortable in their brand new running shoes, or staggering out of the supermarket with bags of fruit and veg they won’t eat, or looking longingly out the window of their office at smokers corner – those who are pretty well much guaranteed to fail in their resolution because they haven’t thought it through or been totally honest with themselves. It’s all about taking little steps. The big steps soon build up. Take it slowly and you’ll get there, boring as slowly may be.
But if you ever catch me outdoors, in a tracksuit, and going any faster than a brisk walk, you have my full permission to shoot me….
I’m just glad to see the back of 2009, quite honestly. On a personal level, it has been an intensely difficult year, although it has also brought some amazing, creative and talented people into my life and has meant I have finally achieved my degree after six years of hard work and hard thought!
I’m looking forward to the new challenges and opportunities 2010 will offer, and I’d also like to take this opportunity to thank you all for reading and commenting at Another Kind Of Mind in 2009 – stay tuned for lots more of the same (and quite a bit that’s different) in the coming year.
I wish you all a very happy and peaceful New Year and best wishes for 2010!
peace and love
trickygirl x :)