I will be spending the evening with my greatest source of unconditional love—myself. Sure, we’ve had our ups and downs, but I’m still with me—still hanging in there—still by my side—still there when I wake up in the morning. Joining me on Unconditional Love New Year’s Rockin’ Eve will be my loyal dog, Grover. And the cats if they’re around. Sometimes I hear cats in the barn practicing conditional love, and that would very likely take preference over me throwing a few Whiskas their way with Nicki Minaj singing backup. So, on the condition that there aren’t better parties to go to, they will give me unconditional love, too.

Comfy clothes. No makeup. Eat when I want to. Remote-access (as the term applies to a person who has lived with TV hoarders all her life). Call people if I feel like it. Not needing to watch my wording and phrase things a special way. Dogs don’t need: “When you get a moment, you might want to go fetch your Christmas toy.” or “Milkbone manufactured some biscuits. Would you care for one now or prefer to wait until the ball drops?”

I’m not a misanthropic bitch, but I’ve just had too much of catering to people’s agendas in 2011…2010…2009…I think you get the pattern.

It may not be the traditional way to celebrate, but it’s good for me this year.

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