The Birth Of A New Year, The Demise Of A Decade

Welcome to 2009. It's insane to think that the first decade of the second millennium is nearly over.

Once I disregard why today was lame, today was pretty fantastic. At midnight I was having fun in a roomful of strangers, vague acquaintances, and Friend. We got sloppy about screaming the countdown six seconds before The Ball dropped over NYC. It was a fun experience.
If I take the opportunity to do what we do on New Year's and reflect on times past, I realize that I haven't celebrated the new year in... maybe three years. My memory is hazy beyond that. But, yes. For at least the past few years, the New Year has rolled quietly over me like a wave of anti-excitement, and then I went to bed.

I don't mind it. I didn't cry myself to sleep any of those nights.
I have since made the transition that most of us make when we exit our crazy party days and choose a favorite pair of pajamas to make love to on a Friday night. There is a point when you realize that you are never missing as much fun as you think you are if you don't go out and party.
Fun times will be had, but they're usually pretty identical to the time before that. And the one before that. And then fun turns into repetition, and repetition turns into aching joints (25 is the new 56!), and aching joints turn into I'm-too-fucking-old-to-have-a-hangover-at-work-four-times-a-week.
No one wants to be That Guy. (Unless you are that guy. In which case, hi-five for maintaining the standard for the rest of us.)

But this year, it was fun. Because it wasn't a house party. We were all past our days of early-20s binge drinking and whatever goes along with that.
No one hooked up.
No fights broke out.
There was no girl drama.
No one got naked.
At midnight, we all gave one another hugs. Even the strangers. There was a bottle of Johnnie Walker Green on the table next to the Cuervo-- and I should point out that hardly anyone touched the Cuervo, which served as more of a death marker of days past than anyone's alcoholic beverage of choice.
It was a classy affair.

2007 was a pretty monumental year. It was a year of ideas. And travel.
2008 was a big one, too, because I got to put all of those ideas into action. And I still got to travel.
2009 is for building on all of that. And for seeing exactly what I'm capable of once I get out of my own way.
I really, truly cannot wait.

I'm breaking my previously quasi-pretentious resolution to not make resolutions (I thought they were just a clever procrastination device) and I'm making two (maybe three!) resolutions for 2009. I don't know what they are yet, but I want for them to be really good. I have some things in mind.

It's a new year and I'm happy about it. I feel like I'm at an alright place for being 25. I like being 25.
As it stands, the worst could get worse and the better is only getting better.