New Year's blahs

I can't say I've ever really enjoyed the New Year's holiday all that much.

For the better part of my 24 years, I spent New Year's eve at my grandparents' home. That, I suppose, I did enjoy a bit. We all had a grand time, eating shrimp and drinking Cokes with cherries at the bottom of the glass. As I entered my teens, however, I started to dream of when I would grow older. I wanted to dress up in a little black dress, sip champagne and dance with a handsome guy at a chic party.

"Growing up," however, hasn't been quite like I pictured. I've spent the last three New Year's eves away from home. None has been glamorous, though one included a boyfriend and all, either before, during or after, involved champagne.

Two years ago, I was where I am now: a mid-sized city in Texas. I spent most of the evening making out with a guy I was dating, while we listened to Jason Mraz. We made a brief appearance at his friends' house party and then watched fireworks at midnight with one of my friends.

That year, I wore a floaty top with a swirl design of blue and green that I bought on clearance at Old Navy. No one should have been allowed to buy that top, I swear.

Last year, I was, for all intents and purposes, alone for the change of calendars in San Francisco. My furniture, electronics and books were locked up in storage, the result of a mistake by the movers that prevented delivery the day before. So I was sleeping in my roommate's room -- he was skiing in Utah -- in a drafty, stained-carpet apartment, in a city I barely knew, with torrential rains falling outside.

I did one fun thing on New Year's Eve: I walked from my apartment -- during a break in the rain -- to the Bay and back, down and up steep hills. I stopped at a tiny corner store on the way home and bought a bottle of Martini & Rossi Asti.

That night, I went out with friends -- but not the type of friends you share resolutions, memories, etc. with. These folks -- one friend, really, and her assortment of other friends -- were fine, nice, but not loved ones. I spent some time with them in the Castro. At midnight, I was wearing no fabulous dress, had no boyfriend and no close friends to hug. I met another friend and his friends for food and then went home.

I'm not into the start of the New Year being a predictor for the 365 days to come. After all, 2006 -- until I accepted my new job, at least -- was a banner year. I started dating a great guy, lived in a great city, traveled to Asia (my first overseas trip) and found a way out of some of my debt.

And I can't complain too much, I guess, about this year's festivities. Some friends are throwing a good-bye party for other friends who just got new jobs, and I'll be going to that. My boyfriend, meanwhile -- still in the Bay Area -- will be working.

Still, I'd like to think I'll someday have a fancy New Year's Eve, with a glittery dress, fluted glasses and my boyfriend by my side.

Here is, I suppose, to New Year's Eve 2007.