I mentioned in my last column, that my NYE was going to be spent with a small bunch of girls, sharing our gratitude and lessons learnt list from 2013 as well as goals for the New Year.
It wouldn’t be unfair to assume, that the type of people who’d spend part of their NYE doing such a thing, might also be the type who believe in signs from above.
Picture then if you will, five girls around a wooden table with a large burning candle and a few crystals in the middle. Plonked delicately on each of their heads a white satin wreath covered in tiny white bows. This part was tongue in cheek, I swear.
Planning a wee drink after the ceremony, I suggested that as I had some girls coming over to do ‘something’, as I put it, at 7.30pm, my brother and crew should aim to arrive at 8.30pm and if I wasn’t ready, to let themselves in.
What I didn’t factor in was my brother’s ability to half listen, and my ability to half explain.
Back at the courtyard table now, surrounded by nature, I’m gently explaining that we’re all gathered together as a circle of trust and that we’re all going to add positive energy to each other’s wish list. Let’s just say, there was a nice little bubble of love forming around us in that moment.
And then up pops this head like an intoxicated Meer Kat through the bushes, “Hey, Petty, what are you doing?” It was only my brother’s most annoying friend.
Great! Zen, zapped. Idiots lurking on sacred space.
“Go away!” “It’s only 7.30pm, you guys are early, leave us. Go up and drink in my apartment, we’ll be finished in an hour.”
My brother cradling goodness knows how beers, and sporting a look of bemused horror, edges closer from another bush. “But you told us 7.30pm? What is this anyway? A séance?”
How embarrassing. On all sides of the fence. I feel the girls squirm as I tried to get things back on track.
Ten minutes later, half way through an emotional sharing from one of the girls about a difficult situation she faced in 2013, another head pops out of the 2nd floor window inside my bathroom now. “Amber, can I knock off one of ya ciders?”
If my face were a mood ring it would have gone from a bright green to jet-black in a Guinness Book of Record timing. “What? Shut up, you’re ruining our vibe! “ I’m now screeching up at my brother. “Well can I?” he laughs. “Yes, now go away,“ followed by panicked after thought “But don’t bloody drink all my ciders, I’m coming up after this.”
As I’m desperately trying to think, “How would the Dalai Lama handle this?” a voice whispers in my head…”they’re wrecking stuff? The annoying friend is going through your undies drawer?” Zen… undies…zen…undies…
This is officially spiritual Spinal Tap now.
And then a sign that I refuse to take as a sign. The $2 shop bubble concept I came up with. So, that’s basically when you buy a bottle of cheap kids blowing bubbles, and as everyone goes around sharing their lists, we blow bubbles after each one to put it out there officially to the universe. Unfortunately as my Dad puts it, “nothing cheap is ever any good.”
Out goes the wish, dunk and blow? Nothing. “It’s ok, that’s not a sign, have another go,” I nervously laugh.
Now it’s my time, I recite my wish to find my romantic life partner. I blow… and out comes two perfect bubbles. ‘YAY!!!!” we all shout and clap. And then one quickly bursts. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll go again. “ Dunk, blow…again two perfect bubbles…slightly softer “Yay!!!” It bursts again.
I get this might appear like a sign that I’ll meet someone this year and they’ll suddenly disappear. Or that he’ll be so besotted by me, that the mere thought of my brother’s friend in my undies drawer just made him explode with jealousy?
I choose to go with the latter. As long as he’s not too much of a nutter…