It is almost that time when commercials about champagne and glittery heels hit the airwaves. Making you worry about having a date for the night or questioning why you don’t have one. After all, the night is supposed to be magical, and harbinger of the year to come. The guy you go out with on that night is the one you chose to spend the new year with, right?
Well, actually no, statistics show that people break up before Christmas, and right after New Year’s Eve. I’ve already discussed that many men break up before Christmas because they are afraid of the commitment being together over the holidays might represent. They don’t want to spend time with her relatives, or see her disappointment when he doesn’t deliver a ring or a proposal. Some of them may be hoping to skip New Year’s Eve too, another holiday fraught with over the top expectations. The best way to avoid failing is not even to try.
New Year’s Eve resembles Valentine’s Day in the aspect it is romanticized by the media, which guarantees that no one will have one, as good as the commercials. You want to have the perfect eve, so what’s stopping you? Maybe a date, well usually it is a date. It’s the one time you absolutely need a date. This is the secret behind why there are so many breakups in January. Many a woman nursed a floundering relationship along so she wouldn’t be alone on New Year’s Eve. She kicked the guy to the curb in January because she wants to do better in the new year.
If you have a date, and you’re expecting him to indulge you in some gala blowout at the local clubs or hotels, good luck with that. We are talking major money for a tired band, lukewarm finger foods, and a champagne toast at midnight. Trust me, I’ve been there in venues so crowded you couldn’t even sit down, let alone dance. Most men who don’t know you well don’t want to fork over that type of money for an evening they are pretty sure they won’t enjoy. (A guy may foolishly think he is securing the union by going along with the woman’s New Year Eve’s suggestions, not realizing he’s already history.)
That brings me to clothing. New Year’s Eve clothing could be guilty of killing off women in the Midwest. Tiny sparkling slip dresses with sky-high heels. Okay, it’s December, which guarantees snow, ice, and biting cold. Almost wrenched my arm out of socket as when I slipped on ice in my gorgeous shoes. The railing saved me from losing a few teeth. Usually, we wear the shoes for the first time that night, which is no treat for the toes. Add to that the miniscule dresses that leave your arms and legs cold, not to mention looking a little plumper than you might like in those areas. That is what I call the Spanx effect. All those extra inches had to go somewhere. Your feet hurt, you’re cold, and your middle is being squeezed. If that doesn’t get you then the hairspray fumes from your elaborate up do might. To make the night special, you sprung for artificial nails, which makes it hard to hold your champagne glass.
Better if you don’t imbibe because you might end up driving because your date is drinking heavily. New Year’s Eve is the one night you probably need to be the designated driver. Seven out of ten people on the road are impaired. That’s why you see so many flashing lights, and not the Christmas kind, on this night. So far, I haven’t painted a very romantic picture.
I think most people need to go the expensive party route to see why they might not like it. If you don’t like it, that’s fine. It isn’t Cinderella’s ball, no prince will ask you to dance, or mice will serve as your footmen. It is hard to get tickets for these galas because people, mainly women, whipped into a frenzy to go by commercials feel it’s imperative. I have never met a man who actually wanted to go out New Year’s Eve. You want socialization, then, throw your own party.
Make it a theme party, or a mystery night, cook a meal together, have a Lord of the Rings marathon, do something different. Invite your friends, and the relatives you think are cool. By avoiding the big night out, you set the dress code, and avoid being mowed down by a drunk. Wonder of wonders, you just might have a great time.