Last night, I finally had the chance to see something I’ve wanted to for much of my life. And I can sincerely say I wish I was still yearning.
My boyfriend offered to take me to see the ball drop in Times Square. He knows I’ve always wanted to see it, and he had never seen it in person either. Yes, I knew it’d be freezing, but I wanted to see it just once in my life. We dressed in multiple layers (though I foolishly wore a single pair of socks) and waited for three hours to see… a tiny ball slowly slide down a pole and a repetitive pattern of fireworks.
We will never do that again.
I was unaware until the ball dropped, people had to stand around, crowded together and with no provided entertainment. “Bored” is not accurate enough to describe how I felt while waiting. To be completely honest, it still felt like watching television. There were only a handful of fireworks before, I guess as a sort of tease, and all the confetti was on far opposite side of us. Definitely could’ve stayed home for that.
I suppose I could say I’m happy for the experience because I now know what it is, but it was hilariously bad and I regret going. For 2018’s New Year’s Eve, we will definitely stay indoors, snuggled together in bed and watching live footage on YouTube.