Mad Lib: New year, same hatred

Libby May, Editor-In-Chief

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Christmas is a time for eating too many festive cookies, seeing that crazy aunt or uncle of yours, and watching Will Ferrell dress his spaghetti with maple syrup. It’s a time for driving around neighborhoods, while blasting “All I Want for Christmas is You,” to admire the Christmas fanatics’ houses dressed head-to-toe—or chimney to doorstep—in tacky blinking lights and blow-up Santa’s. It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Andy Williams says so!

New Year’s is a time for—well… I guess watching a ball drop for 10 seconds and then kissing somebody, unless you’re single. Sounds fun, right? Not particularly.

New Year’s lacks tradition. There exists no specific food or desserts pertaining to the holiday, and no decorations accompany it, except maybe a party horn and glasses, which don’t compare to ugly sweaters and festive pajamas.

There also aren’t any songs raving about the holiday. “We Wish You a Merry Christmas” mentions New Year’s, but it’s a complete afterthought. Heck, it wasn’t even cool enough to be in the song title.

There doesn’t even exist a plethora of films dedicated to displaying characteristic events of the holiday. And on top of it all, New Year’s isn’t even a holy birthday—how lame!

I guess I’ve established why New Year’s has a lower status on my calendar than does Christmas, but maybe I’m not being fair. After all, Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year. So I’ll compare it to Halloween: a holiday celebrated with less intensity.

Halloween checks off the criteria: candy comprises the diet, skeletons and spider webs take care of the decorations, “Monster Mash” and “Ghostbusters” check off the musical facet, and “Halloweentown” covers the movies.

So why doesn’t New Year’s have any of these accessories? The answer seems to lie in the definition of the New Year: the first day of the calendar year. The significance of the holiday, while important, does not bring with it the festivities that have that distinct appeal. The New Year doesn’t call for tradition, which is what we all look forward to. It simply recognizes the completion of another 365 days. For many, it’s a time to celebrate the survival of demanding jobs, hardships, and the draining activity that we all partake in: life. Such ubiquitous behavior does not, however, come in an amusing form.

The hysteria that exists as the year comes to a close is overrated. Everyone knows that on New Year’s we are supposed to be thankful that we made it through another 12 months. For me, at least, I simply dread the return to school, where the stress and worries—that I am supposed to be celebrating the surpassing of—come barreling back.

How can I celebrate the survival of taxing aspects of life if I’m already brooding over the work that I’ll have to complete for the first day back and the tests I’ll have upon the return to school?

To further repress the supposed celebratory vibe of New Year’s, the holiday doesn’t bring along with it the festivities like those that characterize Christmas as the most wonderful time of the year.

New Year’s, as a result, is overrated; the expectation is not met.

And maybe this is just the case for Carrie Bradshaw and me, who knows? I hope your New Year’s is a blast, full of celebration, party horns, and glasses.

But as for me, I’ll most likely be in bed watching Friends (while I can). Call me if you need me!

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