So, New Year’s Eve. Like with all holidays, there are expectations. I hardly ever meet expectations.
Outside looking in
Like most evenings when I want to go out, there’s a part of me that really hates the idea. And so I procrastinated til the last minute. I had to finish crocheting these legwarmers, you see! They were essential for my outfit!
At about 20 of midnight, I finally got in my truck and cruised over to this tiny little bar. It’s pretty bougie and lefty so I figured I’d see a couple people I know there. Nope. Oh well. I ordered a dirty martini, since the idea of getting one was the main reason I left the house in the first place, grabbed a teeny plastic glass of cheap champagne, and settled in at the bar.
It was perfectly enjoyable. I suppose it says something about me that I’m equally comfortable–or uncomfortable, really–interacting with a bunch of strangers as I am with a bunch of friends on New Year’s Eve.
There was one cute short stocky Asian guy that I was flirting with, but he got a little too drunk.
I bummed a cigarette and made friends with the white woman who gave it to me, once she finished escorting her cute friend back to his apartment.
And that was it. My New Year’s Eve. I feel a little defensive that I didn’t hang out with friends. Most of the people I would hang out with were in NYC anyway, an expensive 3-hour journey from Binghamton. I suppose it is nice to toast your past experiences and imagine what the next year may bring together. But I can do that anytime. Point is, I enjoyed myself. I was on the outside looking in, as I am anyway when hanging out with groups of people I call friends. I’m growing more and more comfortable with this, but I get twinges of insecurity about it anyway. I believe the cultural narrative that someone who has no friends but goes out anyway to party with strangers is, like, desperate or something? Anyway, it’s not good.
I don’t do resolutions. They contradict my philosophy of laziness. I might blog more in 2014, or I might not. I’m not saying one way or another. I hate it when people put expectations on me, so I’m hardly about to invite you to do it.
Happy New Year, fellow weirdos!
Sally Strange 