If I were to try and explain to you my feelings for New Year’s Eve, it would be to tell you that I feel the exact opposite of how I feel about Christmas. All the fondness and nostalgia I feel for Christmas dissipates at the midway mark between Christmas and New Year's Eve. I keep my tree up but instead of a symbol of joy, it feels like a reminder that the best part of the year is over. I am trying to recall if this is how I have always felt, or if this grinch-like crabbiness is new. I know as children we spent most New Year’s Eve’s with family. Sometimes with dad. And sometimes at Gramma and Grampa’s with mom and Bruce.
There were a few years we celebrated at home. The year when we were maybe eight or nine when we got to stay in the basement and watch movies while mom and Bruce threw a party upstairs. There was the year we got home from dad’s and Bruce and Mom told us all our fish were dead. Remember? A drunk friend of theirs had poured beer into the tropical fish tank we had in the living room. Imagine going to a party and killing the hosts’ pets! This only adds to my thesis that New Year’s Eve sucks.
So, why does one holiday make me so happy, while the other creates such disdain in me? Why does Christmas feel magical, but New Year's Eve feels tedious?
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