On NOISEMAKER

January 1^st

I played the first puzzle with Krista (my wife) at around one in the morning on January 1^st, and even though the sheet shows that we got hunged, I want the world to know that I knew the answer before she lost it for us while I was playing my turn at Wii Bi Brain Academy. I could have turned it into a big fiasco, especially because it was the first game of the year, but I nobly let it go.

On NOISEMAKER

I’ve never really liked New Year’s Eve celebrations, and in recent years it has turned into a conscious antipathy. I can’t say exactly what it is about December 31^st; when I was in high school I didn’t drink, but I went to some drinking parties. In university I would always be back in Mississauga with my family, but I would have some university friends over and it would be an awkward collision of worlds. But there were no horrifying, scarring memories, but no great coming-of-age memories either.

The real reason I don’t like New Year’s Eve parties is because I get excited about New Year’s Day: I like starting new calendars and throwing out the old ones. I’m a little neurotic about it – last year I had five day-by-day calendars and one wall calendar. So in my mind, I wake up on New Year’s Day fresh and new, my entire year a blank slate ready for me to get to work, armed with several calendars to help me keep track of my progress. A hangover and sleep-in ruins that fantasy, it lets the old year with all its anxieties and disappointments seep into the new.

The last few years I have had what seems like a good excuse to not go to New Year’s Eve parties. I work at Massey Hall as an usher, and there is an annual Yuk Yuk’s New Year’s Eve extravaganza that I sign up for every year. Whenever people ask me what I’m doing, I am working, sacrificing one of the great party nights of the year to be loyal to my employer. The problem is the shift ends at around 11pm, allowing a little bit of time to go to a party.

Last year was the worst – I somehow agreed to host a New Year’s Party at my house, even though I wouldn’t be home? My old high school friend Snel called me up a few days before, and asked what I was doing New Year’s Eve. I confidently told him that I would be at work and so…. And he said that he and our friend Troup would stop by at 11:30, thus foiling my plan and surprising me into agreement. The show went long and Snel and Troup ended up sitting on my porch in the cold for half an hour, and I got home at 11:55pm, just in time for the perfect New Year’s! That’s what I told everyone anyway.

This year I went to Adam Walker’s apartment on the Danforth near Chester. Krista and I were both working at Massey, and it was where all the other ushers were going, so it was a pretty painless decision to go along, attempt to mingle and mooch some wine off some friends. Krista had to work at Roy Thomson Hall in the morning, so we didn’t stay long. And I had a good time, about 50-50 division between awkward and engaging conversations. No noisemakers or hats were used. On New Year’s day I watched the director’s commentary for Michael Clayton (recommended) and went to my Nana’s house in Hamilton for a turkey dinner. Even though I wasn’t fresh and new, 2009 started anyway, and I got to tear off the first pages of my new calendars.