If I’d been absolutely oblivious to the fact that I lived in a capitalist country, I would know it without a doubt with all these offers to buy New Year’s Eve tickets. As if I need to pay money to sit at home, drink my own alcohol while looking at a screen. And for those fatalistic entrepreneurs who actually think that I’d pay the few pennies I’ve managed to scrape up during the pandemic only to spend them on an in-person social event to contract the very virus that’s turned the world upside down, well they can go fuck themselves.
I started planning my NYE celebration a week ahead of time, starting with the menu. This was before I ever bothered to read any of those emails, which advertised NYE dinners for two that ran anywhere from $175 and up. There was no way I’d even pay for half of that tab. Instead, I researched recipes for the auspicious meal I’d have on the first day of January 2021.
For the gold representation, symbolic of wealth, I baked cornbread on Wednesday with my favorite embellishments: creamed corn, two types of cheeses (sharp cheddar and Monterey Jack), green chilies and brown sugar. For the green representation, symbolic of American money, I made a spicy tomato-based collard greens dish on Thursday. Then on Friday, New Year’s Day, I made salmon croquettes. In some traditions, they bake a whole fish. Since this was all edible superstition, I improvised.
As a matter of fact, I even bought green grapes, soaked 12 of them in honey-flavored Jim Beam since some South American cultures eat 12 grapes to make 12 wishes, one for each month, at the stroke of midnight for good luck. The addition of whiskey was my own twist because why not?
For New Year’s Eve, I woke up a bit earlier than the previous work days during the two-week Christmas-Kwanzaa-NYE stretch.
I planned to work half a day only because I hadn’t hit my bonus the day before. There was no way I wanted to ruin my 3-day weekend by logging on just to hit a bonus. Technically, I had until Monday, but I’d worked more than five hours on some days and not made progress toward the bonus. I definitely didn’t want to risk waiting until the last day.
After hitting bonus, I took my regularly scheduled midday Inferno Hot Pilates class, cooked lunch and then popped open my favorite bottle of special occasion red wine, which I planned to polish off within a few hours of slow sipping.
Just before I tuned into the NYE TV show that took me into 2021, I changed into a party dress and put on lipstick and earrings.
At least I can say that I wore my favorite salsa dress once in 2020.
Soon afterwards, I changed into my PJs.
By this time, I sipped the whiskey to liberate my grapes when the time came. At the stroke of midnight, I ate each grape, thinking of a wish. I probably said the same ones more than once because I didn’t write them down first. Nonetheless, we’ll see how 2021 turns out.
2021 began like a normal Friday except I had the day off.
I read, wrote and watched TV until my midday yoga class, then enjoyed my New Year’s Day meal altogether. The only thing I hadn’t cooked were the bacon-flavored black eyed peas. Good enough was good enough, especially when surrounded by homemade deliciousness.
I followed up my early dinner with dessert:
fresh blueberries and honey-flavored Jim Beam salted caramel sauce. May the rest of the year taste as sweet and luscious.