A New Year’s Odyssey: A Journey of Tears, Vomit and Awkwardness

New Year’s Eve is the worst whether you have someone to kiss or not

In the past decade it has become clear to me that New Year’s Eve is the one night of the year that
will never live up to my expectations. I’ve never had a fun, celebratory evening with all of my
friends in attendance and a cute boy ready to kiss me at midnight. And I doubt I ever will. Most
of my evenings have ended in either tears or vomit.

Many New Year’s have passed in a whirl of unremarkable parties that have been erased from my
memory, but here are a few I remember.


I was 11 years old at the turn of the century and we were at our neighbor’s house for a Y2K
celebration. My mom passed me a small glass of champagne in a crystal flute and we gathered
around the basement TV for the count down. At 10 seconds to go I got greedy and took a giant
gulp. My refined palette did not take to the cheap alcohol and I ran to the bathroom as it came
spurting and bubbling out of my nose. I spent the first ten minutes of the new millennium
coughing and sputtering into the sink like a chump.


I was 15 years old and a girl from school had a party in the basement of her family’s acreage. It
was chaperoned by her parents so there was no drinking allowed. As a result, the party was lame
and at midnight I stood awkwardly in the corner as “couples” hooked up around me.


In grade twelve I went to a high school party down the street from my house. My best friend set
the record for kissing/making out with 5 different guys in the course of the evening. After a
session in the bathroom she came out with blood all over her chin. Apparently the poor fellow
was on Accutane which causes severe and unpredictable nosebleeds. We called her Blood Beard
for the rest of eternity. At midnight I stood awkwardly in the corner as Blood Beard hooked up
next to me.

I had a crush on this guy, and we had just gone to the Winter Formal together! He was a
handsome stoner with a Justin Bieber hair swoop who had taken me on a date to Tim Hortons a
few weeks earlier. On this date he somehow managed to park in a snow bank, spill coffee all
over his tan pants and lose his keys, only to find them under a heap of garbage at the bottom of
the trash can… He ended up making out with another girl in the closet on New Year’s Eve. I
drunkenly yelled, “Fuck you, Sean!” into the rustling pile of coats and left with Blood Beard in


At 18 I spent the evening hopping from shitty house parties to lame bars with a fake ID and my
older brother’s friend. At midnight I sat awkwardly in the corner of The Freehouse, avoiding
physical contact with him at all costs.


Finally legal drinking age, and thus uninterested in bars, I was coerced into going to Lydia’s with
a friend and her older boyfriend. It was lame and at midnight I sat awkwardly in the corner as
drunkards hooked up around me.


In my third year of university I went to a party at my best friend’s house, who just happens to
live across the street from me. I didn’t know many people there, so I decided to drink an entire
bottle of wine and then make friends with vodka shots. At midnight I bounced awkwardly on a
mini-trampoline while the host and her new BF hooked up next to me.

Shortly after I projectile vomited into the toilet and my friend walked me home (to make sure I
could still find my home). I then proceeded to vomit into my own toilet for the next 12 hours.
Vodka and I are no longer friends.


I was 21 and in my last year of school when I went to visit my cousin in Ottawa over New
Year’s. He was working on his master’s degree at Carlton. We planned to walk to Parliament Hill
to watch the fireworks, until we discovered that our shitty government had cancelled the event in
1992. He went to his girlfriend’s apartment, and at midnight I curled up awkwardly on the floor
in my sleeping bag.


This one is so lame I almost don’t want to write it. I pre-drank with my parents at their friend’s
house. My mom dropped me off at a party a few blocks away. I didn’t know many people there,
so I got drunk in a closet with some high school friends. At midnight I sat awkwardly on a couch
as two of my friends hooked up next to me. My mom picked me up shortly after midnight.


Last year I spent 15 minutes at the same house party as the year before and then caught a ride to
my boyfriend’s apartment. He was bartending, so I drank an entire bottle of wine and waited for
him to get off work. At midnight I sat in the corner of his room, awkwardly cradling my empty
bottle and crying tears of anguish, another New Year’s Eve spiraling down the drain.
I then went on Facebook for three hours until he got home.


This year I will be serving in a bar, because like the chump I am I forgot to book it off. At
midnight I predict I will be standing awkwardly in the corner as happy couples hook up

-Contributed by Maggie O’Padon. Photo taken from Flickr user “Sarah Korf” – Creative Commons.