I WELCOMED 2013 FROM AN F TRAIN TRAVELING SOUTH. Somewhere between subway stops the clock struck twelve and the conductor made an announcement and the simplicity of it was an odd sort of perfection. But this year I thought I'd do something a bit more typical...and celebrate. Really celebrate. With pomp and circumstance and dressing-up--a dress that required no bra and sky-high-heels and fake eyelashes! So I did what I thought was really very clever and bought an overpriced ticket to a party...
I know, I know, it sounds dodgy already. But it was a party hosted by Sleep No More (which is a truly excellent theatrical event that I can't recommend enough). I thought it was going to be like the anti-New-Years-New-Year. I thought the ticket price + formal dress code + off-the-beaten-path-nature-of-the-show would attract a slightly more mature crowd (meaning not-just-drunk-twenty-year-olds). And I thought the very notion of "crowd" would be...well not so crowded--crowded, but not in an uncomfortable way.
I hated it. I hated every moment of it.
It was so crowded I couldn't breathe or think, let alone enjoy myself. It took forever to get in, forever to check our coats, forever to reach the bar. I've never been pushed so much or had so much champagne spilled on me or witnessed so many skirmishes between s0-called "adults". When I told someone at work about it, a few days later, he said: Oh, you just needed to drink more. Which, truly, would have been the only way to recoup my money. But when I was there all I could think was, that means just drinking for the sake of drinking (chugging) and having minimal fun only to feel like hell the next day. And when I told him this he said: You know what that means? You're getting old. Nothing to be done about that.
This is all to say: next New Year's Eve I'm hosting a house party. A. very. small. house. party. A party. And I'm going to love every minute of it.
(That being said, if you ever do go to a black and white party, wear white. I say this because 90% of the people wear black and so you immediately stand out and there's something to be said for that. How I really felt about the Sleep No More New Year's Ball...a waste of a damn fine outfit).
DESPITE THE YEAR'S INAUSPICIOUS BEGINNING, THE START OF 2014 HAS BEEN PRETTY EXCELLENT. A friend and I were chatting on New Year's Day and he was teasing me about the cold weather here in New York (and it is. absolutely. cold {though not Minnesota-cold so I'm keenly aware things could be worse}). He was doing said teasing all while sitting pretty in balmy Miami. I told him that Miami didn't impress me--I'd rather be in Buenos Aires. Or Sydney. And he said he'd rather be in Paris.
THE REST IS, AS THEY SAY, HISTORY.
To say I'm excited would be a gross underestimation of my current state... I'm barely breathing. I can't say the word Paris louder than a whisper. It's all I can think about. And the promise of it has colored 2014 quite nicely.
ON THE RESOLUTION FRONT...Last year I got off Facebook and here I am, one year in, and I don't think I could have made a better decision. Of course there are updates I miss out on, but by and large the upside way outweighs any loss. It was a time suck. And one that often left me feeling pretty crummy. In coming up with a resolution for this new year I wanted something comparable--something that wasn't as pedantic as hit the gym four days a week or smile eight times a day (a ridiculous example, but you understand, yes?). I wanted something that felt like a loose invitation to a better life. So the lipstick and high heels and dangly earrings? That's all good fun, and I intend, very much, to actually do those things because I think those sort of things are important. But my real resolution (my mantra for the year) is to live with less stuff. I've bought a lot of junk over the years, which is bad for the environment, bad for my wallet, but now puts me in the unique position to look at an item and have some idea about quality, price, and whether or not it has longevity--longevity in terms of wear and longevity in terms of my own personal taste. It also means investing in what I do own...taking the skirts that are too large to the tailor (why did it take me twenty-eight years to figure out the genius that is a tailor!! {and so cheap!}, dry-cleaning my blouses, and on and on. And the thing is... investing in higher quality things is part of investing in one's life and investing in one's life feels really damn good.
"I make myself rich by making my wants few." | Henry David Thoreau
Let's dance 2014... I'm ready.