I gave up on New Year’s Eve about 3 years ago. It’s not that I despise the idea of new beginnings, a fresh start, a brighter future. I despise that moment—the strike of midnight—when the world is celebrating the future together.

For seven years I’ve chased that moment when I would have a wonderful New Year’s kiss at the stroke of midnight. I’ve driven to California and Las Vegas for a fabulous New Year’s parties, only to be left with an unclimatic night and $200 fewer dollars in my bank account.

My efforts to create a “night to remember” were in vain, for they always left with a “night not to remember.” So when I finally realized this reality that New Year’s Eve will never be on a dance floor with a guy confessing his undying love for me, I’ve ignored the holiday.

I don’t know if I should blame the ex-boyfriends who take family vacations over New Year’s, or the weird guys at Ciseros with their alcoholic breath, or even that damn When Harry Met Sally movie that has made every real-life New Year’s Eve moment not good enough, but I want to blame something.

Tonight I am going out, and I need to finish writing so I can go get ready. But I’m not so much expecting a night out of When Harry Met Sally but rather Happy New Year, Charlie Brown. For Charlie Brown always had disappointing holidays, but it never stopped him from trying to celebrate.

But I should enjoy this night for what it’s worth. Valentine’s Day is only 6 weeks away.

**So if you want to have a New Year’s Eve moment with Jenny, she’ll be at some fancy party in Pinebrook…probably at the food table.