Sunday, February 5, 2012

Worst New Year's Eve Ever

I’ve had some pretty lame New Year’s Eves. The one on my mission was a non-event and I thought that was as bad as it could get. Every year I think New Year’s Eve will be great, and each year I’m disappointed. I don’t know why I keep expecting magic when every time I do, it turns out terribly. I think this one might just be the worst (and that’s counting the New Year’s Eve I spent puking and watching a Frank Sinatra documentary with my parents,) mostly because my expectations were so high. I was finally going to see the fireworks in London on New Year’s Eve and I was excited. I absolutely LOVE fireworks. And the fact that I was going to do it in London added to the excitement. The weather was mild, I was going with some of my very best friends, and it was London! What could possibly go wrong?

The plan was to meet up with some friends in Reading, drive to London to meet up with some other friends, and then take the Tube down to the river to participate in the festivities. I knew it would take us ages to get there and I wanted to be sure we gave ourselves long enough to get a good spot. The comedy of errors that ensued combined to ruin yet another New Year’s Eve, despite the fact that I met a super cute French guy and got kissed on the cheek twice.

First, we didn’t leave Reading on time, and then we witnessed an accident on the way into London and had to do our part to help the people involved. Once we finally got to London to meet up with the other group, it took us ages to get everyone mobilized and out the door. We finally did get on the Tube, but kept getting separated amongst the billions of others who thought London on New Year’s Eve would be a good idea. For some reason, we went to the south side of the river and then couldn’t get across the bridges. We walked down the promenade and then just stopped somewhere to wait for the fireworks. It was a fun atmosphere and everyone was in a party mood. At midnight, we heard the first sounds of exploding fireworks. I was looking toward where I thought they were coming from only to see nothing. Then out of the corner of my eye I saw the glitter of gold and turned to see that the fireworks were coming from behind the building to my left, completely obscured from view. The nearly eleven minute display yielded only a few fireworks high enough to clear the buildings. Unfortunately those few were obscured by the trees planted along the river. It was a complete and utter waste of time. I was gutted. All that effort for nothing. Maybe it would have helped if I’d been drunk like everyone else. I’ll try that next time.

Merry Christmas in Merry Old England

I decided to try staying in England this year for Christmas. I had visions of Mickey’s Christmas Carol running through my head: people in period dress singing ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas,’ large roast duck, Christmas pudding, and the occasional supernatural visitor. It didn’t happen exactly as I’d expected, but I did get to try Christmas pudding for the first time. I learned that Christmas in England is not altogether different from what it is at home, other than the lack of snow and cold.

I was kindly invited to spend the holiday with my flatmate Robyn and her family. They were fantastic and made me feel so welcome and kept me very well fed and watered. They even taught me how to properly pull a Christmas cracker. I had taken crackers home my first Christmas here and we had pulled them individually. Come to find out, you’re really meant to pull one end while the person next to you pulls the other. Whoever ends up with the larger portion gets to keep the prize inside. My prize this year was completely useless. I can’t even remember what it was, but I did proudly wear my silver crown throughout dinner. Christmas dinner was delicious. It was turkey with all the trimmings. I’ll give the British credit; they know how to do a roast dinner. They have all sorts of veg, which they cover with gravy, plus roast potatoes and Yorkshire puddings. There’s almost no point in even having the turkey.


I hired a car for the holiday so I could go visit friends and see some of England. Robyn doesn’t live far from Brighton, so I decided to drive down there one day. It was cool and felt very British. I walked along the pier, bought a stick of rock (hard candy with a word written through the middle), and ate fish and chips within sight and sound of the sea. It was a fun day, but I think I’ll need to go back when it’s not too cold to even think about sticking a toe in the water. I also got to visit all my old friends in Reading and Oxford. It was perfect.