Fully realizing that this post will confirm what a weird, nerdy, party-pooper, boring person I am, I must confess I don’t really care about New Year’s Eve celebration.
That’s right. New Year’s Eve for me is just another night.
Sure, I’d go out to dinner with hubby and friends, just make that reservation no later than 6:30 pm, please.
Perhaps it was my upbringing in Indonesia where we didn’t, still don’t, have the ball drop a la Times Square. In my tiny hometown, any gathering of people past midnight would only attract the cops or neighborhood crime watch patrollers. Or that in College, New Year’s Eve was during a break and none of my friends were around to party with me. Or that working in restaurant and catering business, New Year’s Eve has always been the one last job I have to do before I finally get a few days off after 60-hr workweeks since Thanksgiving. Perhaps I’m just not a night owl, except when I cater a party.
At heart, I am a morning person. One of those chirpy, sunny happy people who annoy everyone else who need a venti caramel latte with extra triple espresso shots before they can utter “Good morning” that sounds genuine.
My definition of sleeping in is to set the alarm clock for 8 am, but awaken by my circadian clock at 5:30 am, the exact time I go out for a 5-mile run three times a week with my similarly annoying happy morning buddies. When I do set the alarm for 5 am, my internal clock wakes me a few minutes before the actual alarm would go off.
Tony and I started running in the summer of 2000. We moved to our current hometown of Richmond, VA the following year. I remember the 2001 New Year’s Eve party at the Bull and Bear Club where I was working at the time. After a full day of cooking, I was stationed at the raw bar with my colleague Matthew. There were around 300 guests that night. Matthew and I were shucking close to a thousand oysters. We had shucked a couple hundreds before the party started and managed to be ahead of the gulpers through the night. I was tired, my wrists and hands sore from prying open bivalves, but adrenaline and dopamine kept me awake and cheerful to the guests. When I got home around 2 in the morning, I was still buzzing with the party energy. I think I finally fell asleep around 3 am.
I woke up around 7 am. Woo hoo! I slept in!
I must still have some adrenaline coursing thru my veins because I laced my shoes and went out for a run. I was just gonna go for 3 miles or so.
The neighborhood was deserted. No cars on the roads, nobody on the streets. Other than squirrels scampering up the naked trees, there was no one else but me. Richmond was still asleep in oyster and champagne stupor. About half a mile into my run, the snow started to fall. Light and few at first, gradually thickened and muffled my surrounding even more; I could not even hear my footsteps. I was mesmerized by the snowfall, by the peacefulness that enveloped me. I was running in heaven, high, high, high.
However you ring in yours, have a Happy New Year, friends!
