Friday, December 31, 2004
Happy New Year
And so it has crept up on us again. The day some people dread, the day others love. What will you be doing on New Years Eve? Will you be parading drunkenly around town, telling yourself that next year, you’ll work harder, that next year, you’ll love harder, that next year, you’ll love yourself? Will you look back at 2004, at its triumphs and its failures, its pains and scars?
I won’t be making resolutions, because I don’t believe in them, and I think it’s impractical to designate goal making to one day of the year. This might sound like I’m trying to sell you watermelons: I make goals year-round. However, if time allows, I might reflect on the year – not in a glassy-eyed way – and be blown away again and again at how much God has helped me and my family. My family and me? My family and I? Every year I’m amazed at how generous and wonderful God is, but this year, I can say I’ve grasped more of love, of how important family is, of how much I love my family, and of how much my family loves me.
I will be volunteering at Vancouver First Night, held downtown. I will be there for quite a while. I will get a free toque, a free t-shirt, and hopefully free food, as I will be working for nine hours. I hope the free clothes fit.
I thought about the questions you might have, made a list, and answered them.
Will you get drunk?
It’s not likely.
Will you kiss someone?
Probably not, but you never know.
Will you be at a party with strippers?
No.
But you want to, right?
Be at a party with strippers? Maybe. Be a stripper? No.
Will you be downtown after midnight, walking around, observing the chaos and drunkenness? Will you stay up all night?
I’ll be downtown until probably one in the morning. If coffee shops are open, I might grab something to eat, but I don’t want my parents to worry. If it’s raining, I’ll go home as soon as I can. I don’t remember the last time I stayed up all night. I’m one of those people who need at least nine hours of sleep. If I’ve had too much coffee, I might stay up and read for a while, but I’ll be asleep before three. So while you wild specimens are partying until dawn with scantily dressed women sporting bulbous breasts, and feeling the first taps of the headache that will ruin you for weeks to come, I will be sleeping.
You’re watching the fireworks at midnight, surrounded by hundreds of strangers. Your cheeks are red from the cold, and your hands are gripping the mug of hot chocolate. You and everyone else there are ringing in the New Year with a stunning display of fireworks, laughing and cheering together, eyes reflecting the bright colors in the night sky. You’re standing there, a part of the slightly inebriated crowd, feeling at that moment that you can be anything and everything. Your senses are pushed to their limits. When you’re there, experiencing all that, will you think of me?
Absolutely.
And so it has crept up on us again. The day some people dread, the day others love. What will you be doing on New Years Eve? Will you be parading drunkenly around town, telling yourself that next year, you’ll work harder, that next year, you’ll love harder, that next year, you’ll love yourself? Will you look back at 2004, at its triumphs and its failures, its pains and scars?
I won’t be making resolutions, because I don’t believe in them, and I think it’s impractical to designate goal making to one day of the year. This might sound like I’m trying to sell you watermelons: I make goals year-round. However, if time allows, I might reflect on the year – not in a glassy-eyed way – and be blown away again and again at how much God has helped me and my family. My family and me? My family and I? Every year I’m amazed at how generous and wonderful God is, but this year, I can say I’ve grasped more of love, of how important family is, of how much I love my family, and of how much my family loves me.
I will be volunteering at Vancouver First Night, held downtown. I will be there for quite a while. I will get a free toque, a free t-shirt, and hopefully free food, as I will be working for nine hours. I hope the free clothes fit.
I thought about the questions you might have, made a list, and answered them.
Will you get drunk?
It’s not likely.
Will you kiss someone?
Probably not, but you never know.
Will you be at a party with strippers?
No.
But you want to, right?
Be at a party with strippers? Maybe. Be a stripper? No.
Will you be downtown after midnight, walking around, observing the chaos and drunkenness? Will you stay up all night?
I’ll be downtown until probably one in the morning. If coffee shops are open, I might grab something to eat, but I don’t want my parents to worry. If it’s raining, I’ll go home as soon as I can. I don’t remember the last time I stayed up all night. I’m one of those people who need at least nine hours of sleep. If I’ve had too much coffee, I might stay up and read for a while, but I’ll be asleep before three. So while you wild specimens are partying until dawn with scantily dressed women sporting bulbous breasts, and feeling the first taps of the headache that will ruin you for weeks to come, I will be sleeping.
You’re watching the fireworks at midnight, surrounded by hundreds of strangers. Your cheeks are red from the cold, and your hands are gripping the mug of hot chocolate. You and everyone else there are ringing in the New Year with a stunning display of fireworks, laughing and cheering together, eyes reflecting the bright colors in the night sky. You’re standing there, a part of the slightly inebriated crowd, feeling at that moment that you can be anything and everything. Your senses are pushed to their limits. When you’re there, experiencing all that, will you think of me?
Absolutely.
