I am getting old. Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve and I don’t care.
I have no plans and will struggle to stay awake until midnight.
If someone called me up out of the blue and invited me to the most fabulous party ever, I would say no.
What is wrong with me?
You know, I used to be able to party with the best of them!
I’ve gone to hidden, (pretentious) trendy bars in the city on NYE and partied like it was 1999 – which it probably was!
I did Hogmanay, peoples!
I danced in the streets of Edinburgh, kissed drunken Scottish boys and policemen (they were sober) and saw many a kilt lifted high and proud. Sure, I contracted whooping cough on 1 January and cracked a rib from coughing so much – but it was worth it, baby!
I’ve watched the sun come up and brought in the New Year with lots of hoots and hollers.
I held my breath at the dawn of the Millennium and waited for planes to fall from the sky and elevators to suddenly stop working. When nothing happened, I danced till dawn and chugged champagne.
So what will I be doing this year?
I will be making homemade pizzas and watching a movie with my children until about 8.30pm. Then I will put them to bed.
I will watch the fireworks telecast – feeling guilty that I like the Sydney fireworks more than the Melbourne ones – and trying to keep my eyes open.
Then I will wake the kids up just before midnight, count down the seconds to 2015 and clap and cheer.
Then everyone will toddle off to bed.
May you all be partying as hard as I am tomorrow night!
Happy New Year and I hope 2015 is an absolute cracker!