Going out on New Year's Eve is silly — just silly! | Just Jaggin' | Pittsburgh | Pittsburgh City Paper

Going out on New Year's Eve is silly — just silly!


How many times this year did you drink too much? How often were forced to listen to music you don’t like? Did you lie about having to go to the bathroom to get out of small talk? Well, congratulations! You have already experienced everything that a New Year’s Eve party has to offer. Now you can spend Dec. 31 at home doing what you really want to do, a 1,000-piece puzzle.

Even as a kid I didn’t get excited about New Year’s Eve. I got excited about staying up late and eating all kinds of junk I wouldn’t normally have access to. But being excited about the next day having a differently numbered year, that didn’t and still doesn’t mean much to me.

Anybody who is over 21 or has an older sibling with zero scruples (the proper amount of scruples), can get wasted, eat 40 cubes of cheddar cheese, and throw up in a sink. So, why are we all expected to do that on one randomly selected night? Do you have any idea how much cheese this wastes?!


Hollywood and their celebrity-infested films has foisted upon us the idea that New Year’s is supposed to be this magical evening where you meet your life partner and make out in a poorly lit BW3’s.

So, you try to look your best, buy a backup bottle Axe Body Spray, and floss for the first time in months. But if you’re drinking unlimited Barton’s gin and tonics on the South Side, it’s more likely that your cell phone ends up making out with the bottom of a toilet bowl than you finding your Jessica Biel or Til Schweiger. (Jessica Biel and Til Schweiger are in 2011’s blockbuster New Year’s Eve.)

And who can stay up past 10 p.m. these days? By nine, I’ve read every “Let me be perfectly clear” tweet on Twitter. By 9:30, I’ve had my bowl of dessert Cinnamon Toast Crunch. What am I supposed to do with the next two and a half hours? Facebook?! Watch Ryan Seacrest make everyone around him uncomfortable? Cut more cheese cubes?

If you get excited about New Year’s Eve, more power to you. Get out there, drink that Fireball, and Uber your way back to a stranger’s house. I’ll be eating Triscuits/Savoritz and rooting for you and the safety of your phone from my couch. But I must warn you: After 10 p.m., you’re on your own.

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