or, Those Good Ol' Gregorian Blues
There was a time when New Year's Eve held a certain charm for me. As a child, I was fascinated by my mother's lipstick-and-evening-dress transformation before she rushed off to the neighbors' soiree. In junior high and high school, my friends and I were giddy with adolescence as we clumsily loped into the first New Year's parties of our own. And in college, I proudly rose to the challenge of being more looped than my fraternity brothers by the time the confetti came down.
These days, though, I must admit I'm a little bored with New Year's. It seems so generic--especially compared to the high gay holy days: it lacks the ritual of Mardi Gras, the tawdriness of Decadence, and the outrageous costumery of Halloween. Why, when it comes right down to it, New Year's is just a big fancy dress occasion with cheap champagne. Even last year, when we were supposed to be swilling ourselves super-silly before the Boeings fell randomly from the sky, I couldn't get into the spirit of things. It would have at least been amusing if I'd seen the four horsemen of the apocalypse….
Frankly, my biggest gripe about New Year's is the fact that it's just not exclusive enough. It's not confined to a city, or a region, or even a social group. Well, okay, I guess we could technically call it a Christian event since Jews, Muslims, and others have New Year's holidays of their own--but here in the US, religion is irrelevant come December 31: everyone's out to pass a good time. And maybe it's just me and my gay genes wanting to be different, but I have no desire to be at the same party as Justin friggin' Timberlake.
Of course, that's not to say that New Year's is completely useless. For example, New Year's always reminds me that it's time to go calendar shopping at the Asian market. It's also a great time to take up new wintry habits like cake-baking, pipe-smoking, and flannel-wearing. And since nearly everyone outside the service industry is off on New Year's Day, it's a perfect time to straighten the house and clean out the cat box.
This year, my boyfriend has been trying to get me a little more excited about the whole gavotte. 2001 will be special he says. Last year, he insisted--with the same delight exhibited by my high school chemistry teacher when she nit-picked "M&Ms don't melt in your mouth, they dissolve in your mouth"--that 2000 was not, in fact, the beginning of the new millennium. "Simpletons," he would cry, rushing from the car to the pantry carrying load after load of Y2K canned goods, "2001 will be the real deal. Wait 'till you see that party!"
So to humor my partner (and distract myself from the inevitable emptiness of yet another New Year's holiday), I've decided to pen some resolutions. They're not of the "I promise I'll never" variety, but at least they're manageable for mere mortals like me. Here goes:
1. I will remain calm when watching gay-themed TV series or films. I will not throw sharp or heavy objects at my television screen, nor will I curse the writers, actors, or directors of the pieces in question and their immediate families. I mean, most of them live in Los Angeles, which is a completely separate planet, anyway.
2. On that note, I will erase all memory of Normal, Ohio from my brain.
3. I will endeavor to see every single film in which the oh-so-underrated Mercedes McCambridge took part, including Johnny Guitar, Suddenly Last Summer, and of course, The Exorcist. I will also endeavor to forget that she sounds remarkably like Rocky the Flying Squirrel.
4. I will cease to be amazed and perturbed that nearly all models in the gay media have 2% body fat or less. Many of these models live in LA, which is, again, another planet.
5. I will wean myself away from glitter. It's far too hard to clean up, and besides, all the straight boys are wearing it now.
6. I will do everything in my power to adore, appreciate, and admire Madonna. … Wait, can I do that one over? It's really hard to do with a straight face…. I will do everything within my power….
7. I will spend less time on my PC and more time with my boyfriend. Provided I can pry him away from his Mac.
8. To enhance my personal productivity, I will try to think outside the box. Unless it's Michael T. Weiss' box (ba-dum-bum).…Oh, Mary….
9. I will eat better, drink less, and exercise more. To avoid becoming too healthy, however, I will smoke like a goddamn fiend.
10. I will love, honor, and cherish my boyfriend the whole year long. Provided he keeps good on his promise to stop ridiculing my mother's side of the family. (Will someone please tell him that pig-farming is a noble profession in the south?)
I had an 11th one, but I figured ten would probably be enough to get him off my back. 'Till next year, anyway.
Happy holy rollers!