The world seems to be divided into two types of people. The people who love New Year’s Eve. And the people who don’t.
I am definitely, always have been and always will be, one of the people who love celebrating the New Year.
I love the countdown to midnight. Every year, without fail, cheesy goosebumps creep up my arms as Big Ben chimes on the first stroke of midnight.
I love knowing that after the twelfth chime I will be transported into a brand new year. A year full of promise. A year full of challenges that I have yet to encounter. A year that I haven’t managed to taint yet with any bad decisions. A clean page to write a new chapter of my life.
I love looking back on all that I have accomplished in the year that is ending. The fun and laughter I’ve enjoyed with family and friends. The not-so-good times when I wished I had handled myself differently. I love reflecting on how the person I am now compares to the person I was at the beginning of the year.
I love the idea that as I sit here and type still stuck in 2011 (it’s 4 pm in Vancouver), my brother in NZ is already beginning life in 2012. He’s in the future. He’s a whole year ahead. The nearest thing to time travel I will probably ever know. It’s something I can never seem to get my head around.