New year, new… uh…

So this is the new year / But I don’t feel any different 
—”The New Year”, Death Cab for Cutie

This was meant to be the first post of the year but I love The Girl Who Played with Fire so much that I posted my reflection on it before I wrote this one. Oh well.

Anyway, somehow I was not particularly excited with this turn of the year… or any turn of any year, for that matter. Perhaps some would use the term no life but I don’t quite agree with such a derogatory phrase. Nobody has “no life”; they just live theirs differently.

Like my brother who “lived” his New Year’s Eve with a sleepover with his friends or my parents with a “honeymoon” in their new apartment or I with my party at home with only my two sisters as both the host and guest. We ordered a box of jumbo-sized pizza and we watched DVDs until our eyes gave up. It wasn’t a loud party, of course; in fact, the neighborhood was pretty much quiet, except for the sound of the explosions of early new year’s fireworks in the sky. My sisters and I just had small talks and occasionally make amusing comments on the mistranslated subtitles from the movie. We pretty much enjoyed our small party until our eyes went heavy and gave up just minutes before the supposedly new year’s countdown.

And we retreated to our rooms just as the countdown reached zero. Through my room’s window I saw the fireworks from all directions shot up to the sky, painting the dark, cloudy night with flares of reds and greens and blues and yellows for mere seconds. Very short of time. Like the whole new year’s celebration thing that died down all of a sudden after just an hour of temporary euphoria. Then I spent the rest of the night reading until I decided to sleep at two in the morning.

That’s life too, you know.

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