My exciting New Year's Eve began with a trip down to the beach for what I thought would be a leisurely coffee during which I would enjoy the last 15 or so pages of the short story collection I've been working on. This is by my favorite Chinese author, Yu Hua, and is actually not a collection per se. It is three short stories totaling less than 200 pages, collectively entitled Nyaliku Kecil Seperti Tikus, which does not translate well to English but means something like My Courage is Small Like a Mouse). But more about that later (perhaps).
As it turned out, there was no leisure or enjoyment to be had. Although it was still only 6 o'clock, people were already gearing up for the New Year's activities. Loud music was cranked up in restaurants all along the ocean front, each establishment contending with the others so that the combined sound was more like a half dozen brass bands falling from the sky and crashing to the earth at the same time, and continually. I developed a headache. So I put down my book and sipped my coffee. Caffeine is good for headaches, you know.
This fun activity concluded, I bought a takeaway slice of apple pie and headed home. There, heated my pie in the microwave and tuned in the new Netflix movie, White Noise, which I found to be a load of self-absorbed, faux profound drivel. Whether the Don DeLillo novel by the same name is also drivel, I cannot say, for I have not read it (nor will I now).
I'm listening to fireworks now which have been outlawed in Bali this year and wondering how I am nonetheless hearing them. It's 11:30 and I must hurry to bed, lest New Year's sees that I'm awake and passes me by. I offer no reflections on the year passing, for it deserves none. Parting is not such sweet sorrow.
Resolutions? Well, okay. I resolve not to be quite so cranky tomorrow. But you know how resolutions usually go.
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