Tabula Rasa

New Year is of course a purely arbitrary date from which we decide to start the year. All it really means is that the Earth is, at 12am on the 1st of January in exactly the same place it was 365 days before. In actual fact it doesn’t even mean that. The earth has not in fact completed a full rotation around the sun on the stroke of midnight. Give it another 6 hours and it will get there. After all a year is in fact 365 1/4 days long, we just round it down and add an extra day to the end of every 4th February to compensate. It’s not even really anything to do with the changing of the seasons. If one were to see spring as the beginning, or birth of a year and winter as the end, or death, of a year then the seasons are slightly out of sync. When the New Year begins we’re still stuck with the dismal (though increasingly less cold) English winter, not the more inviting warmth of spring.

So, new year; it's entirely arbitrary and completely wrong. None the less, it is significant in a somewhat notional and symbolic way and it's for that reason why so many see it as a chance for a new start. I felt that my last year was tainted by so much unpleasantness that it would a purely arbitrary change in year to allow me to distance myself from it and afford me the opportunity of a brand new start.

Which may make you think that I about to reel off a list of resolutions. I won't of course. Resolutions are completely pointless. So, I’m going to stop letting the past hold me back and allow the coming of the New Year to provide me with a clean slate where I cease to let the events of the past to have a negative impact on my present and future. Which is of course completely different to having a resolution.

So, this year I resolve to get a new job and loose some weight. And contradict myself less.

Last time I did promise that I’d fill you all in about my recent escapades. Obviously I didn’t manage to get round to it owing to my very hectic and somewhat expensive social life. It’s not like I’ve been doing anything particularly exciting. It’s certainly been fun, but not extraordinary. However, since a number of my friends now read my blog, I’ve realised that I have somewhat less to talk about. I excitedly tell someone about some interesting new development in my life, expecting them to be staggered and highly impressed. However, the most common response I get is not one of amazement and bewilderment, but of blasé disinterest coupled with the statement “I know, I read it on your blog.” I shouldn’t complain really, at least in means that people are not only reading my blog, but they’re also paying attention, all of which must be a positive. And it is, but it’s so like me to focus on the negative aspects of any given situation. Maybe I should resolve to be more positive. I just tend to forget what I’ve written and then repeat it in conversation. As result I feel that I’m being deeply unoriginal. I’m do hate being unoriginal; in fact I often go to strange lengths to avoid it. If somebody mishears me I tend to rephrase what I’ve just said. If only I had money. Then people could say that I was eccentric instead of just weird.

The last 9 days have been full of excess where I’ve consumed far too much alcohol, eaten far too much junk food and spent far too much money. So, it was a hell of a lot of fun. It was nice to actually have some things to do. In fact today is the first time that I feel like I’ve, at least partially, failed to achieve anything significant. True, my achievements of some days have merely amounted to getting very drunk, but even that’s good deal more than I’ve managed in the last few months. Anyway, it’s all been a lot of fun, which culminated last night with the slightly more expensive than I’d hoped New Years Eve celebrations. Admittedly I stayed out until 4am and, at £50 for almost 10 hours of drinking as well as dinner, it wasn’t actually all that expensive, but I do so enjoy complaining. And on that note, I should say that I was slightly disappointed that I couldn’t persuade more people to come along. Of everyone I asked, only a couple of people came along, so at least, initially, there were 4 people in total.

I wanted to keep the night pretty low key. We met at the Royal George, headed of to a posh burger place for dinner, popped briefly to a coupe of pubs, “The Pillars of Hercules” and “The Cambridge” (I think) then headed back to the Royal George for the rest of the evening. One of my friends was, I think a little disappointed that we didn’t go anywhere else. In fact when I spoke to another friend today he mentioned that the friend that turned up was actually looking to do something a little bigger, possibly clubbing, but to be honest I never really wanted to do anything like that. He complained a little (but to his credit, not too much) but it did shock me when he announced, sometime after 12.30, that he was leaving. His sister was having a party at the Docklands flat they share and I expect that he was heading back there, possibly to make a last ditch attempt to salvage the evening and pull. Really, I have no idea what goes on in Luke’s head. Which is precisely why I have no idea why he abandoned his work collegue. Poor girl, left with only myself and another friend, whom she’d met only once prior to New Years Eve, to keep her company. Fortunately it wasn’t a complete disaster; she's is an amusing, friendly and pretty open girl so there were no awkward conversation gaps. We actually talked about a wide variety of topics, sex with an unenthusiastic and somewhat static partner being one of them (ah, my favourite sex related complaint, and if you know me you’ll probably be aware of who it relates to), lesbianism (apparently she wouldn’t want to dismiss the possibility of, at some point, sleeping with a woman) being another. Actually there was a fair bit of sex related talk none of which could go anywhere of course. She is after all married (she says, though she never wears a ring) and I would never knowingly sleep with a girl who was in any way attached. I say “knowingly” because I did manage to break my steadfast rule first time out, but since I had no idea, I can hardly be blamed. Anyway, I can’t say that I wouldn’t have wanted to; it’s been far too long since my last shag for me not to want to. Oh well, it’s nothing that can’t easily dispelled by a quick wank or five.

I’d actually spent an awful lot of time talking to her before my friend left so (and I don’t mean what I’m about to say on a nasty way) his absence was hardly felt at all. I did slightly wonder whether Luke’s premature evacuation was inspired by a small bout of jealousy. Could he be interested in her? I certainly thought so the first time he brought her along to the Maple Leaf a few weeks ago, but he had told another friend otherwise. Of course he’s also said that he’d have no problem shagging a married woman (and according to him he already has) so that does leave the possibility quite open. Then again we could always discuss the gay option. Quite frankly, I do think that there still exists a possibility that he’s gay. Admittedly all the evidence is more than a little circumstantial and requires a fair bit of creative interpretation, but then the evidence to the contrary is a little difficult to corroborate. It seems odd that he claimed to sleep with girls with whom non of us could verify his story. After all, none of us are ever likely to meet them (at least not again. The first girl he slept with was an absolute cow. He said that he’d done the deed some while after we saw her for the first and last time.)

But back to New Years Eve. The only problem of the evening came when my friend's colleague had her purse and phone stolen. Nobody has any idea how it happened. There were sod all people about when it went missing, the pub didn’t get busy until after 1am, and nobody saw anybody anywhere near the table. I can only guess that she had it stolen when she went to the toilet. Shame, but she was really pragmatic about it. “The year can only get better from here” she said. I’d have taken it as a terrible omen for 2007 and basically written off the whole year.

My other friend, who was clearly pissed, wanted to stay on, but at 3.45am I decided that it was time to go and walked the lady back to Bond Street Station. And that, a brief phone call to my previously departed friend aside (no idea what we discussed though), was my new year.

I really hope that it's better than last year. I'm going to do everything I can to make sure that it, but unfortunately I'm not all powerful. Certain things are beyond my control. Let's hope that they don't get in the way too much.