I need relevance, intelligence (a new tattoo, a lot more sex)
I was in Times Square for New Year's Eve, but it's not what you think. Since my church didn't have services today (I think it's because we couldn't rent a location for this date-we usually meet in the Manhattan Center, but I think Clap Your Hands Say Yeah was playing there instead (psst, hope you had fun, Aja!)), I went to my old church on the Upper West Side. Visiting them again reinforced the idea that I had made the right choice in switching last summer. I was one of six people in attendance (including the pastor, his wife and the pianist). I've had enough experience with growth-starved churches to know that a critical element-be it personal or theological-is definitely awry for one to be stagnated to such a degree. However, that doesn't mean I'm not moved by the faithfulness of the members, paltry as they are. I honestly enjoyed catching up with them and did not allow myself to be pressured to go back.
Anyway, so I took the 1 train back down to Times Square in order to transfer to the E, but I decided not to pass up this opportunity, so I got out at 42nd Street. It was around 2 p.m., and the crowds were really not as bad as I thought. I only felt like a sardine during one stretch of sidewalk, but I honestly didn't mind it-it was just so comfortable outside.
I walked around for a bit and checked out the stages. All the roadies and cops I talked to were in good spirits. At that point, I was seriously tempted to stay, but I had a bag of leftovers from the pastor's wife with me and I was running on about 3.5 hours of sleep. One officer told me that everyone would be cleared out, run through security, and let back in around 6 p.m., so it was pointless to stick around now because everyone would lose their places. I don't know if that was true-it sounds like a logistical nightmare-but it was a good enough excuse for me to walk home and get some rest.
The indecisiveness set in after I got home. I spent this entire holiday season rueing the fact that I had to be in the city for New Year's. I have only spent New Year's without my family twice, and this was the first time I would be totally alone. After we learned we would have the day off from work, I immediately resolved to spend the entire weekend holed up in my apartment, cleaning my room and watching Korean dramas. BUT-the weather was so beautiful. Who knows when the city'll get another winter like this, and one in which I'll actually be around?
But I was... so... tired... and I hadn't actually gotten around to cleaning my room at all yet. I decided to sleep on it, so I took a little nap, then woke up and dragged my feet a little more. Did I really want to walk all the way back to Times Square (I figured that would be easier than taking the subway), and even if I made it into the heart of things, would it be an incredibly awesome or the most depressing experience ever to be all by myself, surrounded by a million kissing strangers when the ball dropped?
In these situations, I always feel uneasy unless I give it a shot. So I got dressed and took a little neighborhood stroll. I got as far as 47th and Sixth when the officers (still friendly) informed us that 52nd was the closest entry to the festivities. So I walked a few blocks up, contemplating using my special New Year's employee pass to gain entry into the Time-Life Building (dang, I totally just realized I could maybe have gone into the building and exited on the 7th Ave side). This was the scene on 52nd and Sixth:
It's a little dark, but you can see the masses there. It was around 6:30 p.m. The whole situation was actually a lot less daunting than I had feared, and it felt really, really nice outside. And I didn't really even mind being by myself. I could listen to my iPod and just take in the scene. But I had kind of told myself on the way there that if I was going to end up north of 47th (lofty expectations, I know), I might as well go home and start 2007 with at least a neat and orderly desk.
So that's what I did. I was in really great spirits the whole time, though. They dampened a bit when My Chemical Romance came on TV and I was like "ZOMG they're only eight blocks away and Gerard has black hair again!!!" and then again when I was sifting through certain old letters and cards, but in general I'm just feeling really mellow. (I am actively suppressing the voice inside that is saying this might be the way I mark the new year for the rest of my life.)
It's such a cliché (not to mention a fallacy) to say that time passes more quickly the older you get, but I'm honestly surprised that we're past the midpoint of the '00s. Mostly I feel restless, sometimes a little panicky when I think about how late it is. Tardiness is one of my most destructive habits-I am always running behind, by the minute, by the month, by the lifetime. I need self-discipline, which is my resolution for this new year. For my own sake, I'm listing the specific conditions I hope to accomplish in 2007:
- Go to sleep at least six hours before I have to get up.
- Don't spend more than two hours in bed on the computer, unless I'm writing.
- Get up before noon.
- Do personal devotions on a regular basis (at the very least, read Our Daily Bread on workdays; work on a more in-depth study on days off).
- Join the YMCA or a gym.
- Write everyday, either in my blog or on one of my personal projects.
These are all things I have a really hard time doing. I may amend the list as necessary. Right now I can tell you I'm probably already going to violate the first one. But I'm going to try to keep myself accountable by staying open and honest on this thing.
(The ugly side of revelry: Just now, a man outside yelled, "WHO KICKED DOWN MY DOOR?" His pps (profanities per sentence) is about .893.)