i am not a huge fan of new year’s eve celebrations. when i was young, and my whole world revolved around one single place and time (then, santa fe), i believed that something magical happened when the clock struck midnight on new year’s eve. i watched dick clark count down the seconds, and then the ball would drop and fireworks would blast off with huge colorful bangs. it was a new moment each year. a way to recharge, renew and start life over. in the life of a teenager, a huge accomplishment.
now, years and miles later, i know better. the illusion of starting anew is just that. because, when the clock strikes midnight in santa fe now, it’s already 1 am in texas, seven hours into the new year in dublin, and china has already seen most of january 1st. so, i don’t take much stock in new year’s. and i don’t make resolutions.
that said, i’ve decided on this new year’s eve, as we delve out of the naughties and into the tens, to recount in photos the only two new year’s celebrations that were in any way memorable for me between 2000 and 2009. Continue reading “the ghosts of new year’s past”