As 2007 prepares to make its hasty departure, I sit here pondering, as I do every year this time, what exactly I achieved, didn't accomplish, and need to improve in the next 365 days.
To be honest, I'm not a big fan of the whole New Year celebration. I hate New Year's Eve. The reflection television shows of all the disasters, highlights on celebrities who died, the moments that all were, well it's just dreadfully depressing to me. If you're not out some where drinking your liver away on December 31st, what's the point to the holiday? Kidding.
Some choose to spend the evening in church participating in Watch Night services. Let's just say I' not a big fan of sitting in church all night either. Let's not talk about my fiasco last New Year's Eve when I fell in church. A small recap...
My usual New Year's tradition is some friends and I go out to some place fancy, dine, then retire to someones home to watch Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve on ABC, usually scarfing down Rosie's delicious homemade cookies with coffee. For 2007 Eve, last year, Lady Miss T, Rosie, Kwame, and I decided to go someplace less up market, Red Lobster. Kwame, also, wanted to go to church, as is the tradition in his tribe (village?) back in Ghana. We went to a Ghanaian church north of the city. By the time we finished eating, services had already started and the only available seats were in the front row. Ugh! I hate sitting anywhere near the front for any public outing whether it be church, conferences, the movies, concerts, what have you...
Seeing we had no other place to sit, we headed up the aisle, with me pulling up the rear of our group. There was a two year old child who was running around and was misbehaving like crazy. This confirmed I wasn't in traditional African-American church because no African-American mother would allow her child act out, misbehave, and embarrass her like this child was.
So just as I reach the front of the pews, the child cut me off, slammed into me, and I tripped over the child, and fell flat on my face, all the while trying not to land on the little boy. It was the single most humiliating moment in my life in church.
Needless to say, I did not step foot in any church again until 8 months later. The only reason I went then was to celebrate my grandmother's 80th birthday. It was a family gathering and no excuse would have been excepted to recuse myself from attending! Fortunately, the church was in my grandmother hometown just outside of Baltimore, about two hours away, so no one who witnessed my accident would be attending the service.
I have no intention of going to church this year!
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