the one about the new year

i've struggled a lot with this new year. the problem (i've finally realized) is i always expect too much. when the craziness that is the holiday season slows down enough for me to catch a breath, i find myself expectant. hopeful for something deliciously new + exciting. and so i jump into new year's eve feet first, ready to get the party started. i pull on a fabulous shimmery dress, spend entirely too much time with (depending on the year) a curling iron or hair straightener, and lifting my glass of bubbly high, i breathlessly wait for the ball to drop. 

when that final nine rolls back and the new year is upon us, i always think i should feel differently; the stars should shine brighter and the air smell sweeter. but life just goes on. the holiday ends. i fold red bulbs gently into bubble warp; we haul the tree outside; i vacuum a carpet of pungent pine needles, the scent lingering after the vacuum is tucked away. and we go back to work. life resumes that sort of normalcy that isn't found in a holiday.

when i said i always expect too much, i think i actually meant i expect something. something tangible to my senses.

a boom. a crash. a high pitched whistle.

but if anything, new years day--and those trailing after it--are quiet. they're normal + ordinary.  because as i reminded myself just the other day, Christmas was the something; it was the boom, the crash, the high pitched whistle. while i was celebrating, everything else (the stuff of everyday) stayed exactly where it was, waiting for me to come back.

so as i ease into this new year, my excitement is the smoldering kind; it's growing slowly. i wonder what new people i'll meet; what places i'll travel to; and what sorts of escapades drew and i will embark upon. i can't wait to fill my phone with tiny images that, at the end of 2014, i'll compile into an album. the everyday stuff might have stayed the same, but the big picture's to you.