This is the first new year that has felt super normal. I didn't set any unrealistic resolutions or really any resolutions at all. I didn't have much of a clue what I'd do today until around 2 pm when my boyfriend picked me up and I went to buy the Fitbit I forgot to ask for for Christmas. Then we basically did nothing until it was time to get ready for his work New Year's dinner (super obnoxious I know). But it felt like any other day. I think that was important for me and was exactly what I needed today. A lot of aspects of my life are at major turning points and I'm thankful to say that this years transition was fairly seemless. Don't get me wrong - 2016 was not my year and I had been yearning for it to be over (which is unlike me because I'm the queen of making every moment count). Anywats, it's finally over and like yay and stuff but also we have a lot of "bummer, that's still reality" moments coming our way in 2017 (thanks again 2016). So I'm happy that nothing felt to tragic or dramatic when that ball finally dropped at midnight. Maybe that's what made all of the difference this year. Maybe it was how I spent NYE. My boyfriend and I are kind of homebodys. We love to spend time together even if that means he's sitting at the bar watching me pour buffalo sauce on my eggs. But being the young (and also lively personified) people that we are, we feel very obligated to go out for NYE. I hate driving on NYE! I get nervous and I feel like I'm making the wrong decision every time I decide to go out for NYE. Whatever... we decide to go out and meet some of our friends for a bit, grab our favorite drink in town, and pick up wine to toast the new year with, and come home, watch the ball drop, and eat our weight in queso. This went a little differently than we imagined. We get to town and realize that the annual "first night" event is happening so all of the downtown streets are closed (so that's annoying). We decide to head uptown (?) to grab our second favorite drink while we wait for our friends who are perpetually running late. Weird service at a dead bar is what you get on NYE which should've been expected from a bartender who really wishes he could be anywhere but there on the NYE of an awkward year that we all clicked our heels together for months hoping it would disappear. So finally (FINALLY) our friends get to town and we head back downtown because that's where they wanted to go. Surprisingly we had no trouble finding parking, so taht makes the trip back downtown less miserable. We meet them in the smallest bar and burger joint downtown to find them smushed into a corner huddling in their winter coats because there isn't room to take them off. We stand there pretending like it isn't a weird super busy time. A TABLE HAS OPENED. We get the table. We awkwardly take extra bar stools because there are freaking six of us at this tiny tiny table in a tiny tiny bar filled with 94 other drunked college students. My boyfriend and I already decided we weren't staying for long because we needed to get back to heat up our queso and watch the ball drop. So after this bundle of awkward branches, we say bye and leave (except you know, more pleasantly).
We come home. We heat up the queso and pour two glasses of wine walk into the living room to find a mere 47 seconds left until the new year. We really nailed the building of suspense and anticipation this year let me tell ya. So we mostly satisfied all of the requirements of being 22 and also got to return home to our Squidward-like life. We airfried some mozzarella sticks and ate the rest of the queso and washed it down with a splash of moscato. Happy 2017.
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