New Year’s Eve is the most overrated party of the year

NYE Times Square

NYE in Times Square, New York – 2016. Over one million people, waiting for over six hours in the freezing cold, with no food, drink or bathrooms. Best party ever right?

This article first appeared in the Herald Sun

Now that New Year’s Eve is a few days behind us, lets take a moment to reflect on the annual celebration of, ‘Have an epic time or you’re a loser.’

In my opinion it’s the most overrated party of the year, but in my opinion any party that’s rated at all usually turns out being a turkey.

So this year, did I have a good one? I did, thanks for asking, and I reckon I’ve finally figured out how to do it right.

The main problem is that there’s so much pressure to have a great time.

It builds every time someone asks that one horrible question, which seems to be asked almost incessantly from about mid October onwards: ‘What are you planning to do for New Years?’

There are even solid reasons behind my panic. Here’s a quick list:

5) The last five big NYE parties I’ve been to have run out of booze.

4) Four girls have dumped me on New Year’s Eve. Then proceeded to act like a single girl on New Year’s Eve – right in front of me.

3) Only three times have I ever successfully tongue kissed anyone on NYE, and two of those were dogs.

2) Twice I’ve passed out next to a bin before the countdown.

1) Once I got lost in Swan Hill and it took me six hours to find my campsite.

See what I did there? It was my own little NYE countdown.

That’s one part I don’t mind, and I still find fireworks exciting. Especially when caravan park and campsite people are down at the Rosebud foreshore firing them at each other.

Honestly, it’s mostly just the buildup that I can’t stand. There’s so much planning, forethought and excitement involved, that whatever sort of time you have it can never live up to expectations – it’s an impossible equation.

Unless you make a marriage proposal that’s accepted, you win the lottery or are kidnapped by super sexy aliens who only drink beer and communicate with their genitals.

Here’s one obvious truth that I’ve only recently realised: New Year’s Eve is just another night. Just like every other night there’s still gravity, the same stars in the sky, and alcohol isn’t free.

My birthday suffers from the same problem – despite all the questioning about my plans, when the sun rises it’s the same color as usual, although I wish just once it’d make an effort and turn blue.

In order to have a winning NYE, this year I ignored the pressure, lowered my expectations and just did what I usually do on a winning night out.

I spent it with close friends at someone’s house, and while it was very much your basic fun night in, it was easily one of the best NYE’s I’ve ever had.

I even found someone to share a tongue kiss, and let me tell you, every rumour about Golden Retrievers is true. (I’ve never actually heard a rumour about Golden Retrievers, but they do have mammoth and delightfully rough tongues.)

Oh and please don’t bother with NYE resolutions. If you do bother though, please keep them to yourself, and just tell everyone after you’ve achieved it.

The people I know who’ve successfully made any meaningful changes in their lives go about it quietly, and very rarely feel the need to tell anyone before they’ve achieved anything.

The people who do blab about what they’re about to do to change everything either wake up and forget, are too hung over to bother, or find like most of us that change is hard and it’s always easier to just not to.

Also, if big parties are your thing, well I think you’re weird, but there’s no reason you shouldn’t go for it.

But please stop making me feel like there’s something wrong with me for having no interest in paying $200 to listen to a cover band, and spend the night waiting at the bar, fighting other drunk men for the meagre finger food, and then swaying along with those same men on an otherwise empty dance floor at 2am.

Xavier Toby is a writer and comedian.

Catch him performing at Perth Fringe World through most of February.

His second comedy memoir ‘Going Out of My Mined’ is available now.

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This article first appeared in the Herald Sun