New Year's Eve has always been a disappointment in my life. I'm not sure if that's because it's coming after the enormity that is Christmas, or if the expectations of the night are just too high. Maybe it's because of the immense pressure to finally make something of yourself this year, as if the changing of the calendar has any bearing on your personal goal system. The falsity of the core concept of the New Year is about all that rings true.
Or maybe I'm just a little bitter. There will be no celebration here, no champagne, no party hats, no staying up all night only to get into a brawl with a best friend. We will put the babies to bed, watch a little TV, and if we're both awake enough, maybe we'll turn Kathy Griffin on (seriously, the best thing to hit CNN in years).