New New Year’s Eve, Same Old Shit (#207)

366 days ago, I thought, “Next year, for sure, we’re going to do something fun on New Year’s Eve. We’ll go dancing, at least!”

2017 had other plans. Andy ruptured his quadriceps tendon in September. Yesterday he was finally cleared to jettison his brace, but it’ll be months before he can walk normally. Dancing? Out of the question.

Going to a party? Forget it unless they have a recliner and some ice.

Having a party? We did that on Christmas Eve. Andy had to go lie down in the middle of the party. I still haven’t finished returning the house and yard to their normal state.

Once again, my big plans will be walking dogs and envying the shiny, fabulous people driving off to parties. Then I will remember that my envy is based on heaps of false advertising by companies that distribute alcohol. The reality is a lot of obnoxious drunk people and vomit.

Besides, everyone on social media will remind me that most of us are at home with our pets anyway. Bring on the photos of dogs in 2018 glasses and party hats! Bring on a 9:30 PM bedtime!

Remember your earplugs, because your neighbors probably have illegal fireworks.

Before 9:30 PM, though, I’ll remember how very fortunate and privileged I am, because my husband’s injury was minor. He’ll make a full recovery. Our family members are in good health. My grandmother is going to be 98 in 2018!

It’s not all roses, though. We’re going to be thoroughly screwed on our taxes in April, thanks to the “Only Billionaires Get Breaks” Tax Bill. Yet we will endure until the November elections give us something to smile about again.

And next December 31st, damn it, we’re going dancing.

Here are my musings on staying home from NYE 2016. Enjoy!

 

 

Published by

Autumn Ashbough

WF writing about the humorous perils of life with Chinese-American significant other.

26 thoughts on “New New Year’s Eve, Same Old Shit (#207)”

  1. I have gotten to the point where I don’t even think about going out on NYE. Early dinner (like at 5 p.m.) with friends and then home. Next year I’m buying holiday pj’s. That should spark it up! πŸ™‚

  2. New Year’s for me these days, and for many years now already, involves coming home at 5pm and hermitting. No parties, no dancing, just chilling. A few years ago I decided to head out and take photos of the midnight fireworks – I got my shots but in the end it was not worth it battling throngs of people where it takes about a minute to move ten steps in the city.

    That said, I make sure I have some kind of treats at home to ring in the new year. Like ice-cream. In your case it looks like Andy made a great meal πŸ™‚

    1. Andy did make a great meal! He also made a great mess. It took me hours to clean the beef Wellington pan, but it was worth it. Then we watched “Wonder Woman” and went to bed.

      Even the pictures you take from your window are gorgeous, and so I bet the shots from your adventurous NYE were fabulous indeed. But I see your point. If I lived in New York I would avoid the city like the plague.

      1. A good chef should also know how to clean up after themselves…but hey, that is just me.

        My arm got tired from holding up my phone to take video of the fireworks a couple of nights ago. But thank you πŸ˜€ The adventurous NYE shots a few years ago weren’t that much better to be honest, lol. So many serious photographers with their tripods out there sullen faced taking photos of NYE fireworks – don’t ever want to jostle with them again.

        1. Those sound like determined photographers, but maybe that’s their livelihood.

          Yes, it would be nice if the chef cleaned up after themselves, but after he spent hours making it, I’d feel guilty if he also had to do the dishes.

  3. Autumn, I feel for you — but please know you weren’t the only one with a rather tame NYE unlike expectations. This year I was so exhausted from a busy December, plus getting the flu, that I crawled into bed sometime around 9pm and never even saw the new year come.

    So let’s hope for the both of us that next NYE will be the night we dreamed of (instead of, as in my case, the night I dreamed through…in my bed. πŸ˜‰ )

  4. I was asleep by 10 and woke up again at 12:01, when Smokey decamped from the bed next to me to crawl underneath, because of all the fireworks. Then I lay awake for another 90 minutes. Yay for 2018! Good radiance 2017. Blah blah blah.

    1. I was down by 10:15, up again for dog barking at possum spooked by fireworks at midnight. I feel like I was in good company, though. And yes! Bring on 2018.

      Actually, bring on 2019. There’s a family plan to spend Christmas in Cape Town that year. πŸ™‚

  5. I’m with ya. I got off the You-Must-Have-the-Bestest-New-Years-Eve (or your life is surely pathetic) Train long ago. The expectations ruin it. And I’m not sure I really like the attendant stuff; drunks (as you noted), big, loud crowds, forced jocularity…

    1. And fireworks! I so want to get rid of them. I know the theory behind them was to scare away evil spirits and some people hang onto their traditions zealously. But now they only frighten animals, give veterans flashbacks, and kill birds.

  6. I haven’t gone out for New Year’s Eve in ages! I did it sometimes when I was younger and tbh I hated it most of the time. Bars were crowded, drinks were more expensive than usual and guys drunker and more annoying (this was all in Spain, but now that I think of it, I also went out in Beijing once and there was a perv with his dick out in the club). So now I just stay up until 12, to eat the grapes (Spanish tradition) and then I go to sleep! Getting up at a decent hour on Jan 1 is not bad at all!

  7. Party hearty crowd at my friend’s place. 11 adults all wondering why it was still only 11:15 when we all just wanted to go to bed.

  8. HAPPY NEW YEAR AUTUMN! I hope you had a good one!

    You know, staying home with the pets sounds like heaven to me. I hope you and Andy were able to have a relaxing end to 2017 and a good start to 2018!

    Here’s to hoping you can go dancing next year πŸ™‚

    (And damn, props to your 98 year old grandma. I’m super impressed).

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