Same Old Lang Syne

I've always expected too much from New Year's Eve. Maybe it's the portrayal in movies like When Harry Met Sally and on Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin Eve. Maybe it's because my early ones were memorable and I learned to expect too much. Over the years I've learned to not build it up. But still, I hope for at least a good night and for something exciting to happen. I also get a bit nostalgic. This year in particular, with all of the re-friending I've done on Facebook, I'm remembering times long passed.

One year someone told me they loved me, but it was too little, too late.

Another year someone told me they loved me, but it was too much, too soon.

Yet another year I was so sure I was In Love. The real thing - signed, sealed, delivered. Alas, I was not. Or I should say he was not. (I'm still pretty sure that I was.)

One year was spent in the desert. One year was spent in a apartment high over Central Park. One was spent out at the beach driving through Christmas lights on the sand. A bunch were spent in bars with friends all over the North Bay.

Several have been spent at hockey games -- a little excitement and I'm home before midnight -- although this year I made a detour and saw the clock turn with new friends. Old traditions + new friends = good night.

Every year I think about where I'm going and where I've been. I always am farther along than I thought with much farther to go. I make a few resolutions and usually break them all before I've really tried. I always say this year will be different. Will it?