New Year - Lover or Hater?

I recently discovered I have something in common with Richard and Judy and Gregg Wallace. No it's not that I like to flash my boobs on TV. Or that I like to start fights in public. 

What I have in common with them all is this - we HATE New Year. Or New Years Eve to be more precise. 

'We don't much like New Year,' said Richard. 'We much prefer Christmas. New Year's a bit depressing.' 

I wholeheartedly agree Richard. 

'I don't like New Year,' said Gregg. 'New Years resolution? Only to never ever try to go out on New Year ever again. The food's rubbish, it's four times more expensive and you can't get a taxi!' 

Hear hear Gregg. 

You see NYE is like Marmite - you either love it, or you hate it. And I think I've already stressed, I HATE it. 

Now don't get me wrong, I love to go out and party and will normally have a glass of fizz to celebrate the opening of an envelope. But the moment people ask that dreaded question 'What are you doing for New Year?' (ridiculously, normally around October time) I just want to stick pins in my eyes. I'm like an angry cat - my back goes up and I practically hiss at the asker. 

I can't help it. I just really dislike the concept of an evening where everyone expects you to go out whether you like it or not. And when you do? The reality is the 'fun' you're meant to have never lives up to expectations and it tends to be a quite (over-priced) flat night. 

I've been like this since I was a little kid. When I  was young, Mum let me stay up late to see in the New Year and watch the fireworks on TV before singing Auld Lang Syne. Most kids would love the opportunity to to stay up - but not me. I'd pretend I was asleep on the sofa so I didn't have to celebrate and instead had to be taken up to bed. Odd I know… 

As I got older I would paste a smile on my face and head out to various parties but never with success. One year I got so drunk on orange Barcadi Breezers I fell asleep in my friends garage and another year I snogged a gay man at midnight just because no one else was around. 

The most successful NY I've ever had was the eve of 2009. At the grand old age of 25 I decided that I wasn't going to bow to peer pressure and would stay in - by myself. 

To say I was happy with this decision was an understatement. I excitedly planned the Chinese feast I was going to order and the cheesy films I was going to watch. To me it was bliss but others, when they heard of my plans, were horrified. 

'You can't stay in by yourself!' they screeched. 'You can't!'

'Why?' I asked. 

'Because it's New. Years. Eve,' they pointed out like I'd missed the memo. 

It was very sweet that everyone was so concerned and wanted me to be with them but I'd made my plan and I was sticking with it. 

And I didn't regret it. 

I ordered enough Chinese food to feed a family of four and watched some trashy films. At 11pm I'd sent myself into a food coma so headed to bed. 

Before midnight! I can hear you all gasp. Yep, before midnight. 

I fell soundly asleep and was woken briefly at midnight by fireworks set off by people who hadn't gone to bed at 11pm. 

I didn't even get up to look at them. Instead I simply turned over and fell straight back to sleep. Brilliant night! 

This year me and my friends from work (also fellow NY haters) drank Champagne in the office before heading to a BYO Thai restaurant to drink more Champagne and then headed to a pub nearby that was having a 90s night. 

It started off well. They played Pulp Common People, which is always a winner in my eyes, and other such hits. But then, in typical New Year fashion, things start to feel a bit flat. Midnight suddenly seems forever away and the strangers around just seem to become louder, drunker, more obnoxious and invading your space so you can't really dance properly (that really bothers me - I like room for my moves) and generally acting like it's there one night out a year (thinking about it, it probably is…)

Midnight arrived and I hug and kiss my friend Elaine, happy we'd seen it in together. She then does the normal thing of wishing those around us a Happy New Year while I sort of back away into the corner with only one thing on my mind - getting my coat and getting the hell out of there. 

12.10 I left the pub. 'You sure you want to leave?' Elaine said but she didn't push for me to stay. She knew - I'm the New Year Grinch! The New Year party popper!

On the walk to the tube I saw lots of lovely fireworks - but I also saw a lot of men fighting and girls being sick on the pavement. Oh joys. 

I arrived on the tube platform and walked right to the end, before hopping onto a fairly empty carriage. I didn't even look up to wish my fellow carriage passengers New Year greetings. Instead I got my book out and read for the 30 minute journey as people partied around and made friends with strangers.

By 1pm I had my onesie on and a rum and coke in my hand. Finally I could death a sigh of relief. It was over. And it would be 364 days until I had to do it again….

Which side are you on? Are you a lover or a hater?!