I admit I don't like new year’s eve by Stephen Pollard, The Times, December 28, 2005

I am proud that I hate New Year’s Eve. It is quite beyond me how any sentient human being could actually enjoy it.

Despite the fact that every year it serves up the same combination of discomfort, expense and misery, come the following year, people behave as if the entire wretched experience has been wiped from their memory and look forward to it once again as the greatest party night of the year.

Almost certainly you will know, at most, half a dozen people at the party. As midnight strikes, you must celebrate joyously with strangers. Yes, I can think of nothing I would rather do than be pushed into a giant conga around the room in the middle of the night with people to whom I have never spoken.

Then there is the sheer bloody pointlessness of the thing. Why is it happening? Celebrating the forward movement of time might just as well be done at 03.47 on April 15 or at any other random moment.

It’s not just parties, of course. Restaurants are even worse. A bog-standard bistro near my flat, where a toasted cheese sandwich normally costs just £5, is charging £75 a head “including a glass of champagne at midnight”.

There is clearly a large market for idiots. The evening is fully booked.


Why I hate new year’s eve by Elena

I hate New Years Eve. I hate it. I hate it. I’ve never enjoyed it. It always makes me feel lonely and it isn’t because I’ve ever been alone. I feel the most alone surrounded by hoards of people.
In fact the best New Year’s Eve I’ve ever had was the year 2000-2001 when Alexei and I forgot something and rushed back home to the apartment. Neither of us realized what had happened. It was sweet and great and I wish we had crawled into bed right then, forgetting all about the celebrations.

I guess it drives me insane because I feel pressure from people to have an amazing time. Why? Why do I need to go out with drunks? I’d rather cuddle on the couch, watch a movie and drink hot chocolate. If I do go out, something not-good will happen. I don’t want to go out tonight. If you want to be with me, bring over some chocolate and a film.