Today’s the day—New Year’s Eve…or for some it’s already New Year’s Day…sooo….
Happy New Year!!
However, for those of us still waiting for the clock to strike midnight, are you ready?! Do you have the champagne chilling, resolutions set, someone to kiss by a crackling fireplace? …Ok so, maybe that’s the ideal situation, when in reality many of you are probably bracing the cold outdoors, amidst throngs of thousands, to ring in the New Year (albeit, with fireworks, so in my book that’s a win)!
For me, I’ve celebrated New Year’s Eve many ways over the years, but there are two years in particular that stand out among the rest. Not because they were perfect or luxurious, but mainly because they involved visiting two new cities, New York and Paris!
For now I’ll just post about the Big Apple.
New York
Who hasn’t dreamt of experiencing New Year’s Eve in New York City, the city that never sleeps?! For so many years, I grew up watching Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve. As I sat there, in the comfort of my home, I’d see thousands of people standing in Times Square donning their festive gear counting down the clock together. The ball would drop, the confetti would fly, and Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” would play; the new year had come…and I’d then shuffle off to bed. As a child that was my NYE highlight, plus some sparking grape juice. LOL! Yet, I had always hoped that one day I could be right in the middle of all the fun.
That day finally came as I was going to New York to spend the month of January interning with Time Magazine’s photography department. Of course I was thrilled and nervous all at the same time—and was happy to have some college friends also interning in the city to experience it all with me.
Since our jobs started after the first of the year, we decided to fly in on New Year’s Eve, so we could go to Times Square to see the ball drop. Looking back now, we could’ve used some better planning, but well that’s the great thing about youth, you just do, with little thought to the outcome or consequence.
Anyways, so I was the first to arrive, with one friend arriving not too far after me, yet the third friend’s flight kept getting delayed and delayed. It looked like only two of us would be headed to Times Square that evening. Somewhere around 5pm we began our trek from 34th to 42nd street. Along the way we ducked into a deli to grab a bite for dinner. As we sat inside we could see flocks of people heading north. No doubt, we all had the same destination.
Eventually, we made it. However, since the city cordons off blocks for capacity and safety routes, we were only able to squeeze our way through to just a block behind the building, One Times Square. So here we were, my friend and I, shoulder-to-shoulder with the rest of the onlookers staring at the back of the building away from all of the excitement that happens just in front…a block away. So close, yet so far! And to beat it all, they had set up a portable jumbotron so our section could watch the festivities.
So here I was, in NYC, yet again watching NYE on TV—the only difference…it was freezing! I was standing in the middle of a puddle with my flared jeans soaking up the water to my knee (a fact I’d be reminded of the next day when I noticed the salt ring around my jeans). People were pushing past us trying to get closer, but eventually stopped at the fence holding us all back. About 3 hours in, around 11pm, my friend couldn’t take it anymore (I didn’t blame her) and abandoned me to go back to the warmth of her apartment. I on the other hand decided to stick it out. I was nothing if not stubbornly determined to see it through. I mean I had already come this far!
The minutes ticked by as I shivered in the cold. Quarter past, half past, a quarter to. Then finally the time had arrived…the 60-second mark. I watched as the then New York City Mayor Rudy Giuliani and retired boxer, Muhammad Ali appeared on the jumbotron in front of me to flip the switch as it were. I then looked up at to the top of the building to see the ball slowly making its descent. We all watched the TV for the 10-second countdown and then it began…10…9…8…7…6…5…4…3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!
As the fireworks exploded overhead and tons of confetti fell on all those just one block away…I was filled with a rush of happiness. I had finally checked off a bucket list item. It didn’t matter I wasn’t in the thick of things with confetti in my hair. I was there and that’s all that mattered.
I took out my phone and called my mom, who of course was watching the event on TV, to wish her a Happy New Year. She could barely hear me over the chaos that surrounded me. Once I hung up, I made a beeline back to the warmth of my apartment. Only to stop and watch someone be dragged out of a taxi by another who took their ride. Oh New York! You are one crazy town. After seeing that, I walked a little faster and was soon back in the warmth of inside.
I fell asleep that night glad I had experienced it all, but knowing I’d never do that again!
(Oh, and for my flight-delayed friend, she finally arrived at 3am with no luggage so had to borrow clothes from me to sleep in. A not so happy start to the new year for her I’m afraid.)
For those wishing to do New Year’s Eve in New York City…all I can say is get to Times Square early, very early and dress warm!! Go in knowing you’ll be standing there forever, so go with friends, if you can, so you can take breaks making runs inside somewhere without losing your spot.
Cover Photo by Billy Huynh on Unsplash
