The Final Countdown.

It has been there looming, silently waiting, at the end of this month all year long.

I know it's coming and no 3 letters strike more fear into me than they do.

It is N! Y! E!

Ok, I know: a little dramatic. But to be honest, New Year's Eve is my least favorite night of the year. Yes, for someone who loves celebrations (I love them!), champagne (it's my favorite bev!) and has a penchant towards setting laundry lists of resolutions (way too many for one human being!) it doesn't make sense to me either. But I have to be honest and admit that I haven't been a fan for quite some time.

Blame it on the New Year's celebrations--or lack thereof--I had as a youth. One year I remember going to a family friend's house where we played a game of Two Truths and a Lie. The twist was someone picked a word out of the dictionary and the two truths were actual definitions while the lie...snore. Sorry, I fell asleep for a second there. You would have, too, it was so boring.

College was a bit better. Once my friends and I decided to brave Times Square. We got there early, got locked in tight to our barricade (that's what happens--you get into place and then you have to stay there all night) and waited for the ball to drop. But then someone in our barricade got sick and just kept getting sick over and over again. Since if we left we wouldn't be let back in, we'd all just move to one side of the barricade over and over again to get out of Pukey McGhee's way. We also couldn't actually see the ball from where we were so we had to go by the sound of the crowd: we thought the ball had dropped at three separate times that night.

Fast forward to my most memorable New Year's Eve. It was on a cruise ship that was bound for Puerto Rico. Our travel agent had assured us that it was a Singles Cruise. Perfect! Plenty of fun men to meet! Options galore! Actually, she had lied and we were surrounded by screaming kids and blue hairs. Also, the cruise company (cough, cough, Carnival) kind of forgot that the port at Puerto Rico might be closed on New Year's Day. So they hauled the boat at double the speed so we'd definitely get down there in time to see the island. The boat rocked back and forth like a rubber duckie in a bathtub. We could barely walk down the hallway. And there we were in our party dresses, dancing with each other on the Michael Jackson-esque, Solid Gold lit dance floor as the boat rocked. We all hugged each other at midnight.

While some of my New Year's Eves have been memorable, I can't remember any that were ridiculously fun or that fulfilled the big stereotype that everyone talks about. Even on the times that I have shelled out the $150+ to be at a huge party with music and booze, it has meant nothing more than a few laughs and a couple of cute pictures.

It was only a short time ago that I was truly honest with myself about my love/hate relationship with New Year's Eve: I hated that I didn't love it. And then it dawned on me--with all of the hoopla and build-up, there is way too much pressure put on one little night. All of the questions: What are you doing? Who will you be with? And, my personal fave, who will you kiss at midnight? In so many ways, this night is destined to not meet such high expectations. I mean, after all, it's just one night.

So I took matters into my own hands and for the past few years I have been perfectly content with not doing much of anything on New Year's. Don't get me wrong--I'm not some Debbie Downer hurling noisemakers at happy passers-by while crying into my own champagne. The truth is, I could take it or leave it. If someone has a house party, I stop by. If I get asked out on a date, I go. If my nieces want to have a sleep over, I happily oblige. What I'm saying is I no longer buy into the hype of having the perfect New Year's Eve. I just mark the passing of another year in my own meaningful way. Blame it on my independent and, yes, quirky Aquarius personality but I find my own fun and if nothing remarkable is going on, I don't get down about it. It's just one night and if it goes well, great! But if it doesn't, oh well.

Going along with my usual "take New Year's as it comes" attitude, I decided to let myself off of the hook this year. And my resolution is no resolutions. I know! I am even surprising myself right now! Don't worry, I'm still the neurotic, type-A girl you know. I'm just cutting myself a break for once. Loving kindness I think they call it.

Wherever you end up this December 31st, I wish you your own definition of a happy night, realistic expectations and a big smooch at midnight. Happy New Year!