Is it me, or is this the unpopular opinion? Every December 31st, everyone I know is scrambling to find the right outfit, the best party and the least disappointing first kiss of the year. Call me old, call me uncool, but when it comes to flipping the “cutest kittens” calendar from December to January, I really couldn’t care less.
New Years Programming Is Boring
Mario Lopez, Carson Daley and Ryan Seacrest would be first on my list of “entertainers” I wouldn’t invite to a dinner party. In case you’ve never tuned in to one of their riveting countdowns, they’re even less entertaining than a rerun of Keeping of with the Kardashians. Why do I need to relive Hollywood break up highlights from the past year, or watch half rate performers lip sync the one hit wonders I’m waiting to fade away? I already have to do that on regular days.
Confetti Is A Pain In The Butt
Throw it up at a party and it’ll be your first regret of the new year, especially if it’s the glitter kind. Sure, it looks great in the movies, but the reality is that it’ll stick to everything you love and before you know it, you’ll be ingesting more than you’d like to. Want the full effect without the clean up? Tear up unwanted bills or photos of your ex boyfriend right over a “sparkling” lit garbage bin.
An Evening Out Costs More For No Good Reason
Suddenly, my favourite takeout has gone from being a ten dollar twenty minute affair to a fifty dollar, two-hour-wait-for-delivery. Does the thought of staying home, or eating leftovers from a day prior really offend everyone? And shame on bar and clubs that think the date can dictate the cover price. This is the last day of the year, not the last time we’ll ever club again. You know, unless the next apocalypse warning is right.
New Year’s Eve Isn’t Always Convenient
Can you believe that the festivities fall on a Monday night this year!? My regular Monday night never reaches to midnight, and almost always includes fleece pajamas. So what, are we expected to celebrate the weekend prior? That sort of the defeats tradition, the countdown I mean, not my mom’s midnight kahlua parfaits (I had a weird childhood). I hope that my neighbors agree that noise makers aren’t necessary for welcoming in another year.
The Big Kiss
I’ll admit that as one half of a long term partnership, I lose track of kisses. With dozens a day, and 365 days in a year, I’m not sure if the one at 12:01 on January 1st is the most memorable. Single folks might be up in arms right now, but are you really going to spend your hard earned money finding the perfect non-stick lipstick shade to lay down on some stranger’s who-knows-where-they’ve-been lips? It’s like saying “I don’t care if I have herpes in the new year.”
Does anyone else consider that so many of the world’s population follow completely different calendars? I wonder if they spend millions of dollars on dropping disco balls.
By: Eva Severed