how an editor feels about new year's eve

Why Is Everyone Pretending to Like New Year’s Eve?

Just admit it, it’s the worst night of the year.

Can we all address the big elephant-sized disco ball in the room? No one actually likes New Year’s Eve. Admit it. This is a safe space, friends. Let me say what everyone else wants to: NYE sucks.

Here’s the thing—we’re in this murky intersection of life. We’ve outgrown the crazy hangover-guaranteed nights out but haven’t quite reached fully-catered grown-up party status. So where does that leave us? In a NYE funk.

Let’s play out a few common plots. We all have that emphatically positive friend who creates an “All That Glitters Is You” Facebook group for an exorbitantly priced ~fancy~ night out to the bar/club you’d never step into the other 364 days of the year. It’s sequined-dress-required and includes a champagne toast (as if that makes the price tag feel any less like robbery). They try to convince you that “this year is the year you make it inside before the clock strikes 12.” Oh, OK. But here’s how it actually ends up going down: You gather at a friend’s apartment (either one that’s in close proximity to the venue, or who has the most square-footage and mirror space) and pop a preliminary bottle of bubbly. This is your cheapest drink of the night, even if you splurge on the orange-label stuff, so pour yourself out a second. Between ’90s throwback songs, you’re neurotically checking Lyft to make sure surge pricing isn’t racking up to more than the ticket to the party. Once you get there, you join the sea of down jackets, bare legs, and sparkly hemlines peaking through. You’re freezing your sequins off. Then there’s the line at the coat check. Then there’s a line for drinks. If you’re lucky, you’ve managed to snag a beverage before 11:59. Four! Three! Two! One!… You get my drift. It’s been a fun couple of hours, FINALLY, but now you have to get home—Seamless is waiting for you, after all—but, surprise! There are no taxis, Lyfts, or Ubers available. You have to admit, at the end of it all, wasn’t the best part of the night the pre-game?

OK, scenario numero dos. So let’s say you’ve learned from new years past and vowed to never spend half a paycheck on one night out. You’re now a hang-at-a-friend’s-house type of person. You’re going to be extra chill about plans this year. Too chill maybe, because it’s December 30 and you haven’t actually made any plans. The thing is, neither have your friends—the ones that haven’t beelined for the tropics or have to put their newborn baby down for the night. They all waited for the others to figure out something fun to do. Now it’s three of you and your dog hanging on the couch, watching the ball drop. It’s a nice night in with friends, but is it really worth all the hype? 

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