Arthro-Pilates and Lupus

 

 

NOTES FROM A WEISBROD

 

New Years Eve Countdown…Always A Letdown

New Year’s Eve.  Three small words, one pressure filled night.

One would think that on this special evening I would be filled with excitement and joy over the festivities surrounding the inevitable slide into the oncoming year.  I am not. It all started as a child when my parents would force me, my brothers and sister to stay up past our bedtime, watch hours of Dick Clark, ignoring our pleas of “I’m tired, I want to go sleep”, all in an attempt to celebrate the midnight hour with them.  If the truth be known, the big “countdown” was and always has been a big “letdown”. 

As a teenager I would head down to Nathan Philips square with my friends in tow to ring in the new year. It was always so cold standing outside, and I always wanted to leave the second I arrived.  It sounded like a good thing to do “in theory”, but strange toothless men wanting to kiss me when the clock struck twelve and no bathrooms to be seen made me miserable at best.

In my twenties it was all about the restaurants, clubs, and nightlife. Tightly packed bars, with streamers, hand held noisemakers and stupid looking hats making a mess of my hair that took an hour to style made me wonder “what am I doing here”? Prices were hiked up to ridiculous amounts because the owners knew we would pay to celebrate, and you could never get a taxi at the end of the evening. More often than not I would end up walking the streets with my boyfriend trying to hail a cab, and just dying to get home and go to sleep. Pretty much the same way I felt as a child with the words “You’ve come a long way baby” ringing through my liquor enhanced stupor that would inevitably become a colossal hangover the next morning. In my thirties, banquet hall parties were the “thing” to do, and large groups of people dressed in formal wear that left me wondering where on earth were the fashion police gyrated on the dance floor to bad renditions of “Shake Your Booty” by KC and the Sunshine band”. These were evenings I’d like to erase from my memory altogether.

Then there was the big “millennium” new years eve. Talk about pressure. I was too frightened to go out that evening for fear of a massive shut down of everything that was computerized and sat at home, with my stock piled bottles of water, heat generator and gas filled car waiting to high tail it to the high country in case of looting. I’m in my forties now and last year I decided to go to a movie. Four single women watching “Cold Mountain”, a love story with Nicole Kidman, left me feeling “out in the cold”. If you want to be depressed I highly recommend taking in a flick on that evening. Just one look at the surrounding audience shouting “Happy New Years should do it.

So here I am again. 2005 is just around the corner and the pressure is on as I contemplate what to do on this year. I have decided that once and for all I will cut my losses, stay at home, work on my resolutions list, and resolve to never fall victim to New Year’s Eve pressure again.  Happy New Years everyone!


©Lori Weisbrod

 


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