New Years Eve. It feels like it's been a long time since I've had one.

I only distinctly remember five new years celebrations.

The first was when I was very young. I went with my parents to the Happalas. We ate lots of crab. I drank a little wine and passed out on Anne-Marie and Pete's waterbed, to the original series of Star Trek on VHS.

There is a fuzzy memory in there of eating a horrible Finnish dish called lutefisk. I suspect many of these memories, horseshoes, and sand, and old polka music have all blended into one.

The second is of my grandfather, and a new-years spent in a comfortable chair built for the elderly. My grandmother was somewhere else. I ate lots of popcorn. I had a little bit of whiskey, and fell asleep to John Wayne. All I can think of when I remember this is how much more alive he seemed then. My grandmother is not well, and for every thing she forgets, he must remember, good or bad.

The third is Happala's again. I remember going there again when I was older, with a girl named Tylar. She was beautiful then, and things were happy. We ate a great feast, lit candles on the traditional fire-hazard tree, and drank some wine and passed out to Audrey Hepburn movies, on DVD.

Of course, I got bored. She told me once afterwards that her parents had thought we would get married. I wonder sometimes where things would be if that had happened. There is no lingering sentiment in this, just a curiosity that is driven by a current boredom.

Sometimes, I wonder this about many past relationships. I do not think I'd be happier. I wonder about many things, most of the time.


The fourth memory I have is of the first new years at my house. We were hammered, and naked, and in the hot tub and on the beds, and on the trampoline. It was the best kind of freedom. I think that when I am old and die, this is the place I want to revisit before I pass. Nothing was right or perfect, but for a few months, while my parents were gone, and the bank account was full, life was really, really just ok and happy.

The fifth is of a new years at my house again. I don't remember the night - I remember what happened after. I suppose that likely should have been a bit of a heads up. but hey, for some reason, I still write these. And I'd like to think it's not solely for my own perusal. So what do I know, anyway?

And that brings us to now. Where I am drunk, and very stoned, and smell and feel like shit. I have spent the night cleaning puke, and looking after the friends of the girl I like, and generally doing a bunch of absolute bullshit I had hoped to avoid having to do tonight.

I feel as though I have done my penance in life. Yes, I was a shitty person when I was younger. And now, my life is pretty darn shitty by the standards of today's living. There is certainly good, but I cannot help but look around and feel like this is just a cheap, terrible way to live. I do not like that I will never accomplish anything significant in my life. I do not like that I am now a pretty nice person for the most part, but still repel people. I do not like that the few people I find worth my time do not find me worth theirs. And I do not like going to stupid fucking new years parties, where I am not welcome until my previous alchoholism has rendered me the only one capable of standing, and a bunch of immature fucking pedants need my aide. And regardless of all that, I get it - fair enough, I guess.

So that's my thought for this new years - I hope all the best in the world to the people that want it. I don't, and haven't for a long time. Just let me die, already.