Auld Lang Syne

I love New Year's Eve. There are very few worldwide events that I enjoy. As a Jew, Easter and Christmas have never really done much for me (other than the whole decorating aspect - I could so get into that aspect of Christ's little bday party!). After marrying a nice Christian boy, I discovered Christmas actually means painful get-togethers with people I would rather drown than drink with, which made it even worse. It's not only religious based events that repel me. Hubby always works on Cup Day and thus 'the race that stops the nation' just means babysitting duty for me. I loathe the Olympics and resent the bad television we miss in order to watch some eleven year old girl jumping around with a ribbon. How is that sport? I have thus far avoided planting trees on a specific day allocated by some committee, and refuse to help clean-up Australia. After all, where is everyone when it's time to clean-up my house? As a self-confessed shopaholic the one day of the year I abstain from this holiest of ventures is Boxing Day. As the flocks are bussed in to rifle through crap from fourteen years ago that has been ceremoniously dumped on the most convenient trestle table, I maintain my distance from Melbourne's shopping meccas and give my Visa a well-deserved rest.

But New Year's Eve is different. It is the one time you feel like the whole world has permission to PARTY. I like to think that even the most uptight, buttoned down, repressed individuals on the planet are gettin' down and filling their cars with cartons of their favourite beer. Good cheer? Christmas dinners with Great Aunt Fay complaining about "kids these days" and then falling asleep on the couch as cousin Tiffany accuses everyone at the table of conspiring to make her fat, simply can't compare with the chance New Year's Eve provides for us all, at least in some small way, to start again. This year, to celebrate what I believe is the world's greatest annual event, Hubby and I have decided to host a kid-friendly bash - complete with mirror balls (I can't resist party kitsch!), kids treasure hunt, ice-cream sundae bar and a resolution tree.

Now, Hubby and I differ enormously on the whole resolution thing. I see it as a potentially sacred event. He sees it as an opportunity to make incredibly humorous remarks like, "I promise to drink more beer in 2007". I truly believe the contemplation needed to decide on one's New Year's resolution promotes the kind of self-analysis everyone needs occasionally. New Year's Eve allows individuals to face their weaknesses and attempt to overcome them. It is an opportunity for self-reflection and momentary honesty about the person we are and the person we wish to become.

I have many weaknesses - many, many, many weaknesses. And to say I will address them all in this New Year would be unrealistic. There is however one aspect of my nature that I would like to, ahem, 'work on'. I'm not a great friend. I try to be, but the bottom line is, I'm not. I get easily sidetracked by other aspects of my life, as I think many of us do. Family, work, the house and let's not forget me, me and me. Now, up until recently this has never been a huge problem because until recently I was blessed (or cursed - not sure which) with rather average friends who pretty much operated the same way I do. I'll call you when I need you, which may or may not coincide with when you need me. They were, and too a large extent, still are, individuals who place themselves and their interests on a plane high above anybody else's and thus you feel comfortable and quite frankly, completely entitled to do likewise.

But over the last few years I have come to know a number of women who deserve far better than what I have been giving. They are honest and generous and I truly know I could call them at any time for any reason. I have shed many of my old friends, making room for those who accept me even without make-up. I can be honest with them when things aren't perfect, when the bank-balance isn't as healthy as I would like it to be. I can tell them when I feel down, or tired or when I'm just not coping with everything that life throws at us. I can go to them when I doubt myself for some much needed bolstering. Around them I don't always have to be confident and on top of it all. They see the fraying edges and love me despite them. They are who I now refer to as "Friends I Don't Have To Clean For".

So in 2010 I say to hell with Auld Lang Syne. In 2010 I resolve to be a better friend to those who I know and love now. I resolve to text less and call more, to resist the urge to lie and say all is great. I resolve to gossip less and be truthful more, to recognise that friends are of far greater value than what the boss thinks of you. I resolve to stop worrying about those who have proven time and time again that they are not good friends and instead focus on being a better friend myself.

Happy New Year.