New Year. Ugh

Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve.

New Year is my least favorite holiday ever. Why! You might ask. How could anyone not like a day where Bubbles are a requirement? How could you not enjoy dressing up? The parties? The Pomp and Circumstance?!

Never been my thing. In fact, the last really good New Year I had was in 2000. It was an epic party. It was the type of party where it took 2 years to clean the glitter out of our house. Seriously, we found glitter two years later wedged into the carpet upstairs. It was a party where no one was expecting it to be a party. We invited, and people showed up. And I made nearly 40 people partake in my New Year tradition of throwing a bucket of water out the front door. My Dad took pictures, and those pictures of water suspended in air are still some of my favorites in the collection of photos my dad had printed at an actual business where they printed photos. Those were the days.

In the years after that we’ve had a couple really great family dinners at fancy restaurants where they had a pre-arranged menu. I’ve had a New Year where I was legit kidnapped onto a RV and was forced to wear no bra, a flannel, and men’s basketball shorts for 48 hours. (I looked hideous. Thanks, to no friends at all.) I’ve sat in my apartment and not gone anywhere for 2 years in a row.

This year I don’t know what I’ll do. I get to bask in the comfort that my lady crush J-Law also doesn’t like New Year. (Steal my thunder why don’t you.) But I look at this coming year and I am desperate for it to be better than the last. Every day I miss my Dad. And it has only become more painful as the months pass. I suppose I write tonight only to give others the relief that comes with someone else saying that it isn’t important to celebrate a holiday just because it is one. Perhaps this one will be more than I expected. But those who are like me are not alone. Either way, here is to 2016.

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