Indeed what ARE you doing New Year’s, New Year’s Eve?

A lot of things changed for me this year. First of all, the location where I call home changed. My husband and I moved from NJ to Cape Cod this past February. Thankfully, my employment changed. Well, not so much CHANGED as picked up in volume, a huge relief because without it I’m certain the bank would have already foreclosed on our new dwelling. They weren’t too happy with BOTH Sean and myself being freelancers in the first place. Lastly, our plans for New Year’s Eve have changed. It has been tradition that on December 31st we stay home. I cook an outrageous dinner in the name of some sort of expensive shellfish washed down with an ice-cold beer, or maybe a little bubbly. This is followed by some sort of impossible homemade dessert. And for entertainment, we sit in front of the tube and watch the idiots at Times Square and VH1’s “Who Loves The…” series. I usually fall asleep JUST before midnight, Sean wakes me up somewhere around 1am and we climb into bed. Watered, fed, entertained and most importantly safe and sound. I love this tradition. Where most crave to be out and about, I love nothing more than to be nestled in at home. Tucked in by the kittens with a nice warm fire roaring in the fireplace (ok, through some sort of Girl Scout deficiency, our fires never roar, but the Java log does crackle a tiny bit).

This year we’re breaking from that tradition and going out. This led me to a frantic post-holiday shopping spree. Which I hate. I hate going out shopping for something specific to wear to a specific event because I will obsess over it. Apparently it’s a trait us Virgos are fond of in some sick and twisted way. So I schlepped to our one and only mall. Now, coming from the state whose current motto “The Garden State” is in the process of being changed to “Land O’ the Malls” I am spoiled and shopping proved to be somewhat difficult. Now, I know what you’re saying. Each mall is pretty much uniform and having 5 enormous shopping malls within a 5 mile radius of each other is obscene and ostentatious. I completely agree. It’s one of the reasons why we moved. Although having a plethora of shopping choices so close has its charms when one is in fashion duress.

So off I went to battle little old ladies who are bargain hunting for spoiled grandchildren and dodging crazed moms welding carriages as if we were engaged in battle in a coliseum to look for a top to match a killer skirt I’ve not properly accessorized in three years. After 6 shops, 25 sweaters and a whole bunch of mirrors that belong in a fun house, the gods of everything that is good and fashionable took pity on my Grinchy post-holiday soul and in a moment of extreme clarity, I found my sweater. It’s a black cowl-neck cashmere sweater that hits right at the hips and hides all those nasty little bodily defects. Perfectly simple and lovely, it was clearly one of those “meant to be” items: the right size, the right color and 50% off! Whoo hoo! Where’s that AmEx card?! It’s so perfect that I’m considering wearing it to the fancy pants Artsy event I’m attending NEXT Saturday.

So now I’m properly clad to be wined and dined on the last night of this year of changes. Here’s to ’07 and hoping it will be equally twirling us in upward spirals.