2010 is a number rather pleasing to the eyes, don't you think? It's a bit futuristic looking. I finally feel like we have arrived in the 21st Century. The previous years just didn't seem quite worthy of that accolade but 2010, two thousand and ten, or twenty ten, however you say it, is a fine and proud number. Incidentally, I have yet to place myself in one camp or the other and continue to use the two monikers interchangeably.
After having a wonderful early evening barbecue with close friends and our offspring, then arriving home by 8pm to dispatch said offspring to the Land of Nod, I spent my New Years Eve under the Christmas tree, reminiscing about New Years gone by. I didn't go too far back... just 10 years. It seemed appropriate somehow to reflect on the first decade of the millennium, especially considering the entrance into it was so highly anticipated and celebrated. Besides which, I'm not sure I can remember any further back than that and it hurts my head if I try.
So here's a quick rundown of my past ten years New Years.
1999/2000
A highly decadent, indulgent and intoxicated affair. A grand party in London in which the DJ marked the turn of the millennium with Robbie Williams' "Angels", which was enthusiastically sung along to by all present. One couldn't help but wonder if he had selected the wrong track number. Surely he meant to play "Millennium"? The evening was ended catching up with another group of friends and watching the sun rise, no mean feat in London in the dead of winter. Incidentally, the night before was the last time I lay under the Christmas tree, this time with a bottle of wine, four friends (it was a big tree) and garbled conversation.
2000/2001
A rather dull New Year's Eve with my then boyfriend on holiday in South Africa. We went to what could have been a great party if only we'd known anyone else there. I wore a t-shirt proudly declaring "Keith Tweed" in silver letters, after Cherie decided we should all do a Madonna-Britney and wear t-shirts with each others' names on them. Shame all my friends were in London then. I was the only saddo in South Africa wearing one. Still, it did make me feel rather connected to my missed friends.
2001/2002
My housemates and I had no plans whatsoever. My boyfriend had no plans either. Yet somehow we managed to do completely different things. He went to a White party on the west side of London, bloody miles away. Stupid idea to wear white at New Year, especially when you're a red wine drinker. So me and me mates walked to a local nightclub instead. It was crap.
2002/2003
My last New Year at home before The Big Trip. I went for a curry with my parents (arghghghg) before heading to my Gran's for a G&T. Cheryl phoned me in tears telling me how much she was going to miss me when I left. I drank the least alcohol on any New Years Eve since I was 18, possibly younger. Still, we'd had a lovely frosty walk earlier in the day and saw a sparrowhawk catch a finch. Marvellous.
2003/2004
First New Year in Australia. An Australian friend was over from England so we went along to a party in a holiday apartment with his mates, having spent the early part of the evening with Toby's brother and his wife (and their friends), who had to stay at home because they had a teeny tiny baby. We watched some fireworks from the apartment which was quite high up. Surprisingly, it was a bit chilly on the balcony. I started downing cocktails and was having a rather nice time until Toby dragged me home not long after midnight because he wanted to go for a surf at 5am. Bo-oring!
2004/2005
We had just arrived on Lady Musgrave Island for what turned out to be the holiday of a lifetime. After a day of travelling and setting up camp we were knackered and in bed by 10pm. I was a bit sad as this was the Christmas my dad's sister passed away.
2005/2006
This turned out to be the best New Year's Eve since 1999/2000. We were on a beach holiday at Angourie in New South Wales. We had a surprisingly large party, given we were from out of town. Oscar was filming the party scene for Surfer Sutra. I, having already played my part (beach babe, of course), was kicked out along with the other beach babe and the disciples. We took a bottle of gin and a camera to amuse ourselves. We sang 80s songs and took stupid photos. Blue Steel and Angry Pirates were born and haunted us for many years to come.
2006/2007
In UK and I became a godmother for the first time, to my gorgeous godson, Joshua, son of my oldest friend, Catherine. As Catherine and John have kids and we'd been out all day (and John was bladdered) we stayed in that night. We attempted to watch a film but realised we were just staying up for the sake of it and went to bed. Watched the fireworks in bed then slept. Not very rock n roll.
2007/2008
First New Year as a married woman. First New Year in our new home. It was also Scott & Lucie's first New Year in their new home. We celebrated by having absolutely no plans. Ended up having dinner at Scott & Lucie's then headed up to Point Cartwright with a bottle of champagne to watch the Mooloolaba fireworks that never happened because of the terrible weather. Ended up hanging out at Point Cartwright with said bottle of bubbly in the driving, torrential rain. And wind. Gusty, gale-force wind. Lovely.
2008/2009
Humungously pregnant. Had dinner at Libbette's then a few of us drove to Point Cartwright and watched the Mooloolaba fireworks. A spontaneous night that turned out rather nicely.
2009/2010
Another spontaneous "I've got no plans, you've got no plans, let's have no plans together" kind of a night with Scott and Lucie again. These are turning out to be rather good ones actually but I think that maybe next year we should endeavour to actually do something. But, as we have children we probably won't.
If you've read this far, wow! Are you procrastinating or what? Happy New Year me lovelies.
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