My friends keep circling me, poking me to make a decision about New Year's Eve. I patiently, dare I say lovingly, explain that I don't do NYE. I threw in that bar towel several years ago.
What a well-meaning friend says: "Oh, we can do something low key, stay in the neighborhood and drink at a bar."
What I think: I'd rather claw my face off. Better yet, I'd rather beat that drunk on the bar with a noise-maker until he squeals.
What I say: "Thanks but, um, no. I'm treating it like it's just another night."
What a soulful, enlightened friend suggests: "Come over to my house and we'll have a burning ceremony and set intentions for the new year."
What I think: While that sounds magical, waving around a sage stick still marks this as a special day, which, in my date book, it's not.
What I say: "Honey, I love you but I think I'll spend the evening journaling by myself. Maybe I'll even create a vision board for 2011."
Why do I want to punch December 31 right in the Dom-soaked digits? Read my post from last year. I'm THIS close to losing an eye from a champagne cork so NYE, you win the end-of-year cage fight. I'm tapping out.