TheVine's suggestions for a happy New Year's Eve
New Year's Eve is awful. Don't look at me like that, you all know you hate it. In this, the final in our summer group-think series, we ask TheVine's contributors for their suggestions on how to make New Year's Eve a less horrible evening. Heed their words, they know of what they speak.
Do one thing. That is all. Don't party hop. Don't think you have to see all of your friends. Just pick one party or event and then stay there. Then take that party or event and make it your own.
- Convince everyone at the party that you have an incurable disease where if your blood alcohol level reaches 0, you die.
- Pretend to be from New Zealand, where the latest dance craze is the "Injured Egyptian" (you can use your imagination for this)
- Make a sequence of loud comments about the party's "lack of dip" and when someone asks you about it say "No, it's OK, I found some!" then pull out the 2L tub of hummus you hid behind a couch earlier and offer them a tablespoon. Instant party.
- When nobody's looking, commandeer the stereo and put on Green Day's 'Time of your Life'. See how many times you can do this before people realise it's you.
- Did you know that a pair of headphones can be used as a microphone if plugged into a microphone socket? If your party has a DJ set up, I highly suggest you take advantage of this.
There are only two ways to take New Year’s Eve: you can acknowledge that it’s an over blown clusterfuck of alcohol & bad decisions and thus take a contrary, low-key approach to celebration; or you can embrace it and become a New Year’s Eve Person. Buy some shitty fucking pants and a horrible mesh top! Nestle a flask of bourbon against your scrotum and catch the train to Bondi! As the saying goes, if you can’t beat them, become walking human garbage and #YOLO.
For the love of all that is carbon-based, just don’t go out without a strategy. That is, of course, unless your aim is to either (a) get drunk and beaten or (b) hate all mankind with a force so great it could fuel an energy revolution which electrocutes the last traces of human hope.
Nothing good will happen. The chances of meeting an Awesome Someone of having an Awesome Time are far exceeded by the likelihood that someone WILL steal your iPhone and send all your naked selfies to The Picture magazine.
Stay the fuck at home or go the fuck to a friend’s house and play Xbox. Congratulate each other on your mature choice, drink a little too much and have regrettable sex.
Happy new year.
Convert to Judaism. We go by the lunar calendar and New Years (Rosh Hashanah) is usually sometime in September. This means there are fewer drunk assholes roaming the streets and more taxis when you want to go home. FUCK YEAH JUDAISM.
The biggest mistake most people make when it comes to New Years is prioritising parties over people. New Years is a celebration, and you want to spend it with your friends, not some bartender who’d rather be celebrating with his friends. The next problem is one of location, and thankfully the solution is right under your nose. If you don’t have a plan by now, you should be inviting everyone to your place: dinner, drinks, music, a bit of dancing. Finally, get your shit together: for dinner, cook a curry the day before; for booze, forget cocktails and invest in champagne and wine; for nibbles, get everybody else to bring a plate. The only thing you want to be worrying about on the night is which lad or lady you’re going to plant one on once the clock strikes twelve.
If ever there was a night for shameless opportunism, it’s New Years Eve. If you don’t leave town, don’t make plans. Give yourself a maximum budget of $100, then, the day before, ask everyone you know what they’re doing. Pick the people with the best idea and glom onto them. If you see a moment’s hesitation in their eyes, make a sad puppy face. If the coolest plan is a house party, use your budget to bring a bottle of champagne. If you’re going out, buy whoever’s party you crashed a round. If the best plan is to go somewhere beautiful and outdoors to watch the fireworks, spend the money on picnic goods.* Whatever you do, do not spend more than $100. Do you really want to kick off the New Year thinking about all that cash you blew on a hangover?
*Unless you live in Sydney, in which case going somewhere beautiful and outdoors to watch the fireworks is a terrible, disaster-prone plan and you should try and find smarter friends.
So in London they have this really neat thing in the city to stop it becoming too congested with rich wankers who can afford a car. It’s called a vehicle tax, and everyone, no matter who they are, pays it when they try and drive into Central London. New Year’s Eve in our shimmery Emerald city could benefit from a similar sort of policy, except we’d replace automobiles with dickheads. See, what makes NYE so crap in Sydney isn’t the overpriced venue entry, the dearth of unmanned viewing points or even the influx on cops; it’s dickheads. It’s these dickheads who get into fights, terrorise you and I and sell out bad-taste events. If we flag them at the gates, deducting points for Southern Cross tattoos, attitude and slugging goon straight from the sack even though they’re 29, we may just fix this thing yet.