Most of the time, I relish being single: the freedom, the autonomy, the lack of fights over how to fold towels. Most of the time, I revel in the fullness of my life.
But then comes that moment, a few minutes before midnight on New Year's Eve, when I feel that twinge of "I don't want to be alone!"-itis.
Yeah, red-rose, lace-bedecked sales pitches around Valentine's Day will twist my nerve ends into creative pretzel shapes. However, New Year's Eve angst is what initially shredded my nerves into frayed fringe.
I don't hate New Year's Eve celebrations. What's to hate about parties, abundant food and dancing? I love to get dressed up and step out on the arm of some charming devil who knows how to boogie and make me laugh.
There just aren't always enough devils around.
Some years, I've spent the night sitting on the sofa, balancing a Romio's pizza box on my distended belly and keeping my niece company. Worse still, I had a better time than if I'd ventured out into the cold to sit at a dud party of forced small talk and no date.
What do I find most irritating about New Year's Eve? I'll count them down.
No. 5: Too much alcohol
When did over-consumption of alcohol (or illegal substances - and I'm not referring to tobacco) become equated with having fun?
You want to know how un-fun over-imbibing can be? Spend a sober evening with a drunk or stoned person. Or count the days (and money and relationships) lost to avoidable headaches and stomachaches and repairing damage discovered following an intoxicated haze.
No. 4: Expense
Any other night of the year, for less than $20, I can drink, dance, laugh with friends and probably get my lips mashed at midnight. On Dec. 31, the cost is $30 to $90, but hey, that might include a champagne toast - or not.
No. 3: No date
No. 2: Bad date
Worse than having no slick stud squire me around is having the wrong date.
I've primped for hours, spent a fortune for tickets and passed a night on the dance floor with a date who doesn't realize he is rhythmically-challenged.
Then we have the horror of a date who cancels at the last minute. Death, terminal illness or sudden committal into rehab are valid reasons to miss, but no one can find a backup date on New Year's Eve.
And, thus, another year's memories swirl down the drain.
No. 1: Can't be avoided
New Year's Eve is celebrated in Peru, Australia and Turkey. I know this for a fact and can thereby hypothesize that it happens everywhere.
Sure, many cultures emphasize family, religion and/or the passage of time in their celebrations. It is only cultural conditioning that causes me - standing in the warm, night air in the midst of a traditional Aztec/Mexican celebration - to keenly feel my date-less status.
While Valentine's Day is a product of U.S. imagination (and consumerism), New Year's Eve is worldwide and unavoidable. Even in Timbuktu you can find yourself on a couch on Dec. 31, watching reruns of "Friends" and wondering why you don't have a date.
Luckily, that twinge - the moment when I deeply feel my solitary state - always passes. Jan. 1 follows Dec. 31, and as the year begins again, I return to reveling in sole ownership of the stereo-volume knob.
Special note to involved people
Warning: Studies show that between New Year's Day and Valentine's Day more couples break up, separate or divorce than at any other time of the year.
A special Sofia word of advice: This is a good time for small, romantic gestures. Big gestures - a trip to Paris or a huge-screen TV for the Super Bowl - are nice, but routine small, selfless gestures - like emptying the dishwasher without a word - make bigger, longer-term differences.
Special note to single people
Opportunity: Studies show that between New Year's Day and Valentine's Day couples break up, separate or divorce. While such endings are, of course, tragic, it is time to get out and mingle. Just think: Lending a sympathetic shoulder may land a soulmate.
Sofia lives in North Seattle. She can be reached at needitor@nwlink.com