I'm not a huge fan of New Years Eve. I mean, that actually moment when the count down comes to a close, the cheering begins, and the New Year starts. There is so much pressure and anticipation that builds up to that one moment. You spend weeks (or in my case about 45 minutes) contemplating what you will wear, how you will do your hair, what party you will go to, who you will celebrate with. And in the end, that one second when the calendar flips from December 31 to January 1 is not nearly as exciting as we plan for it to be. I heard someone say once that, "expectations are premeditated disappointment." At least in terms of New Years Eve, I think I have to agree.
But, on the flip side, the moments in life that have far exceeded my expectations were the ones I went into expecting very little. My first summer I went to NYC, I was supposed to spend six weeks working and living in Midtown Manhattan with college students from around the country. As my plane landed at Laguardia and I saw the "Welcome to the Big Apple" sign on the tarmac, I started crying. I just kept thinking, "What in the world made me think a small town southern girl could survive and thrive in a city that didn't believe in sweet tea." But survive and thrive I did. My childhood friend, Melanie, says that's the summer my long distance love affair started with New York.
As much as I don't like the build up to New Years Eve, it is actually one of my favorite times of year. I know...I know...I'm a walking contradiction. But, I love the idea of starting fresh. I love all of the possibility and potential that lays ahead of you. There's something really exciting about contemplating the next 12 months and realizing that anything can happen. Where will I be living this time next year? Will this city I just moved to 4 months ago begin to feel like home? What will I change about my life?
I guess we'll see....
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