Happy New Year's, or Happy New Year?

I spoke to a dear friend of mine on the phone today.  She is away from home, up North somewhere, due to circumstances beyond her control.  The subject of New Year's Eve celebrations inexorably came up.  I look forward to New Year's Eve and Valentine's Day with greatly modulated enthusiasm, even when I am dating someone, but especially when I am not.  (I admit, one of my baser thoughts when I am dating someone and it seems to be going well is "Oh goody!  I have a date for New Year's Eve!")  There is something about the pressure to go out and have a hysterically good time that defeats me before I even begin.  However this year is perhaps more debilitating than years past because I am dating someone wonderful - who is going to be in Florida for New Year's.  In case you haven't guessed, I won't be. 

I started feeling a tad desolate about it, until I had a revelation.  Now, my revelations are not newsworthy.  They are more along the lines of things other people have known practically since birth, so don't get your hopes up. You are not about to learn the meaning of life.  (This always makes me think of Jeannette McDonald in "Naughty Marietta," singing "Ah, sweet mystery of life at last I've found you . . ." to a palpably uncomfortable Nelson Eddy as he is taken away by the authorities, presumably to his death.  The mystery of life is love, in case you hadn't caught on.)

Anyhow, back to my revelation.  It isn't New Year's Eve, the holiday, that matters - it is the New Year itself that matters, all 365+ days of it, and there I have much to celebrate.  I have a great guy, I have great friends, I have a tiny but close family, I have a decrepitating but conveniently located house in Princeton, I have interests, and I have the two most lovable cats in the universe, even if they do need insulin shots every 12 hours so I can never go anywhere, and in addition, ineffable joy and fulfillment await me as the year ripens.  So perhaps my New Year's Eve won't make the Style section of the New York Times, but thank G-d, my New Year should be filled with blessings, admittedly accompanied by  the inevitable slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.