As Christmas fades away and the last minced pie is reluctantly scoffed, our thoughts turn to detoxing, January and work ARGH.
Good intentions are rife as we swear we will never drink in the day again, ever. We will attend the gym or at least stop paying for it.
And so on…well you know my opinion of new year’s resolutions. But before all the dieting and back to “normality” can begin, we have one more evening to get through. And don’t think I’m a drama queen if I claim it as the worst night of the year.
Here’s a few damn good reasons why the let-down that is NYE (new year’s eve) should be banned and we should all just go back to work rather than suffer through this dismal holiday.
Holidays are coming and coming and … oh they are still here 😛
The Christmas holiday is a time of wonder, magic and sparkle if you’re an M&S fan and a time to be exceedingly grateful and happy if you believe the media hype. But that’s a big if. Now if you are sitting there, as I am, in your possibly new christmas PJs (which are already tight on your newly expanding waistline) feeling that post Christmas slump, you’ll know this isn’t even remotely true. Christmas can be great fun, and I do love my new handbag, but it can be tricky from negotiating drunken relatives to being faced with the inevitable family argument over monopoly. Or if you were feeling risque, cards against humanity but hell Grandma’s already mentioned “The Gays” and “brown people” before you’ve even got the cards out.
It can remind you how shallow, greedy and depressing humans can be. If you’re a 20 something or even a 30 something returning back to the home nest, you may find yourself reverting back to child tantrums from teenage years. I WANTED TO BE THE DOG, you scream at your 4 year old nephew during monopoly. Again, a good reason why we tend to lock the board games away, my mum being far more competitive than she’d like to admit.
So all in all, Christmas sucked. And even if it didn’t, I bet you are still fed up of finding supermarkets closed, only having dodgy bottles of wine bought by guests and random blue cheeses from the ubiquitous cheese board left in your fridge. So why are we prolonging the holidays and this feeling of sluggishness?
Watching Alan Carr’s The Chatty Man (another reason to grimace at Christmas) the other night and it was refreshing to hear every celebrity guest say how much they hate new year. Why, Phillip Schofield, why do you hate new year? I forget his exact answer, I was probably still very much into the port bottle at this point but he definitely would have agreed with me when I say EXPECTATIONS. For some reason, we all expect so much from new years.
It’s probably again the media hype but we expect to be swept off our feet by a handsome stranger, or just have the best ever night out with our friends. When in reality, you know you’ll wake up having snogged someone inappropriate (like a work colleague or friend), have gone into your overdraft and spilt red wine over your new white jacket.
Saying all this, a work colleague last term divulged that she met her partner of 25 years (and counting) at a new year’s eve party so there’s still hope for all you romantics out there…
NYE is definitely the night of the year where I feel most like Ebenezer Scrooge. I mean going out is expensive enough hence why most of us are adopt the wallet-happy pre-drinking which so often ends in disaster (I really must start doing pub measures). But even when we considered going to our local for NYE, we’d be charged £15 for the pleasure. £15 for a place we usually go to for free with the added irritation that it’s a themed night, 70s or 80s I believe. This means if you are really going to go for it, forking out more money for a dodgy afro and something sparkly or feeling like a let-down all night.
Whilst going out is expensive and bound to get ugly, staying in is possibly worse. One the TV is even worse than Christmas eve and includes live coverage of everyone else, who is out and probably not having fun but you will imagine they are.
And secondly, and why we shouldn’t cave to peer pressure, you just know when you get back to the office/school/zoo/brothel (wherever you make your dollar) that someone is going to ask “What did you do on New Years?” and the answer “got drunk with my cat and ate an entire tub of quality street” is not going to do wonders for your work reputation, is it now?
If you get invited to someone else’s, it can be quite a tempting offer, less expensive (hell you have loads of bottles of wine to get rid of). You can test social boundaries and Jack Dee has tips on how to get a better bottle of wine to drink, than the one you brought to the party, which is always useful.
However, you more than likely have already seen these people over the Christmas parties and social events, so conversation will be limited and there is the distinct possibility that all the “food” they will be serving will still be leftovers from the Christmas dinner. Disguised as innovative catering, you know deep down, that it is WEEK old turkey and sprouts, I mean c’mon they weren’t even that tasty in the first place
It seems there is one group in society that enjoys New Year’s Eve and that is the perverts. Or to be slightly less harsh, those touchy-feely types who seem to feel that the last night of the year is the perfect time to give you an inappropriate squeeze. Clearly some of us did not get enough mistletoe action over Christmas, as going through your local as the clock chimes midnight is like an obstacle course as you try and avoid kisses and slobbers from friends and strangers alike.
Call me Cinderella, get me a pumpkin carriage and get me out of there.
It may seem miserable and miserly but after a Christmas filled with prosecco and cheer, I am looking forward to a night when I can not drink bubbles, not have to kiss or hug anyone I don’t want to and not follow any social expectation.
As you wake hungover on January, you are hit with that feeling of being in the officially most depressing month of the year, the one where you are most likely to break up with your partner, lose your job and be the fattest you’ve ever been..but at least you can do it all, safe in the knowledge that the pub will be free, the bank holidays are over and no-one is going to force feed you turkey canapés.