I know this is a trite topic at this point but I am completely serious when I say that my first concern is: what are we calling this? Two-thousand and eleven? Or Twenty-eleven? I cast my vote for the latter, because it lends itself to a whimsically childish pronunciation: "twenty-'leven". Aww.
Second concern: Have we all decided what we're going to do this year to avert or welcome the coming apocalypse? I mean, it's coming up. I'm falling squarely on the "welcome" side, but that's merely a function of my generally cynical outlook and not the obvious result of a miserable 2010. This year was hard in a lot of ways but the optimism I felt at the beginning of the academic year holds; I still feel like things are looking up.
I guess that kind of encapsulates why I so rarely have anything major to say on January 1st - I've always either been in school (and thus, already had a more significant New Beginning moment than one that occurs in the middle of the year by which I live my life), or working a job I hated (and generally pretty cranky about everything). Not to mention the fact that New Year's Eve is one of two nights out of the year that the amateurs come out and act like fucking amateurs...though there was merciful little of that going on at the party I went to, for which I am understatedly, but no less powerfully, grateful...though I did see a pair of rather poorly-disguised prostitutes! But I digress.
Anyway, in 2011 I plan to live a little more like this really is my last year ever: I want to take opportunities I would otherwise be afraid to. I want to experience something wild, something strange, something so completely other that my whole world is changed. When I ring in 2012, I want to look back and celebrate all I have accomplished. But first I want to take a fucking nap. Happy New Year!
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