New Years Eve

By Mistress-Babylon Consort

Ahh…New Years Eve. A date picked out of a hat that entails silly cocktail dresses and boozy kisses from drooly lips unknown. There was a reason I use to escape to the first empty restroom stall when at the local watering hole to avoid such encounters. Is it over yet? Too many years have elapsed since the meaning of this particular night lost its relevance. The Samhain turn of the season remains my marker of a turning year, a beginning and an end, and thus remains most logical in my own intpretation of universal cycles.