All I’d miss was Jenny McCarthy smooching some young guy who didn’t know better and observe Ryan Seacrest slowly usurp Dick Clark’s position. Oops, that was a few years ago, wasn’t it? He’s fully instated now, smugly narrating two-thousand-so-and-so’s arrival with aplomb and self-satisfaction.

And why shouldn’t he? I’m younger than he is, far too young to be cynical about his taking over Clark’s position, too young to grump about the New Year and too young to be blogging about it rather than blearily taking in the scene blaring on the television in the next room.  Aren’t I?

I mean, really, is it so wrong to be young and naive and happy and silly? Is it wrong to just fucking enjoy the New Year’s dawning and be thankful for another year? Sometimes I feel like everybody lives inside a goddamn greeting card that I just can’t open.  The holidays bum me out, plain and simple.

My younger sister glitzed herself up, hair, makeup, and dress.  We didn’t go anywhere; she just did it for fun and then put doctored selfies on Facebook with captions like, “gettin ready to kiss 2012 goodbye xoxo” and it made me feel awful.  Like, really depressed. Part of me thought, you should get all dressed up.  You should be excited like we’re having a mini party here at the house.  But I didn’t.  My sister’s been texting her friends and asking them about their plans, mainly because our parents are strict and won’t let her go anywhere for New Year’s.  She likes to live vicariously, I think.  I thought to myself, why haven’t I called up any friends, not even to wish them a Happy New Year?  Why don’t I text someone to see what they’re up to?

But I didn’t do any of that. I read a library book for three hours in sweatpants until I got yanked out to the living room for the thirty second countdown.  We watched the ball drop and my parents kissed and my little brother asked for more sparkling cider because he finished his before the countdown even ended and my sister twirled around and pretended she was still glamorous even though she had abandoned the dress for pajamas because no one was around to see her anyways and my parents keep the house pretty cold to save on heating.

She’s planning to Skype some guy she knows later on tonight. She asked to borrow my laptop and I said sure because it’s not like I’m at school anyways.  I’ll probably soldier on through this book since it’s due back to the library in two days and I hate having to return books I haven’t finished. I would renew it, but I’m renewing Les Miserables and I hate renewing more than one. I guess that’s just a quirk of mine.

Writing about how sad I am on New Year’s Day has me feeling like Holden Caulfield, and I don’t mean to sound put-on, so I’ll leave you to enjoy 2013 (although, I suspect if you’re really reading this a few minutes of hours into the new year, you probably don’t have much to get back to. I know that’s a mean thought, but I figure I can’t be the only one feeling a bit bummy tonight/morning.)

At any rate, I thought I’d be glad they didn’t play “Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot” this year because I think it’s cheesy, but I really don’t think they did, and it feels sad because they didn’t even bother.  Now they have musical guests party-rockin their various stages, and everyone’s moving on.  I really don’t think New Years is anything special.