.☆*゜・ᵐᵉᵈᵘˢᵃ

Women named Meredith are enigmatic. They are extremely intelligent but have a tendency to act amazingly stupid. They have loads of factual knowledge but little knowledge of the "ways of the world." There two varieties of Merediths. One variety encompasses the Merediths who use their intelligence to act pure and innocent but soon the truth of their scandalous side comes out. The other variety of Merediths are truly innocent. Decipher which type is which at your own peril.

“New Year’s is always the year’s biggest letdown.”

“So, what are your resolutions?”

“I swear, if I have to hear ‘Auld Lang Syne’ one more time…”

“Hey, sorry, it took me forever to find a place where my cell could get a signal… happy new year’s from [location].”

“What have you accomplished this year?”

“This year sucked. Good riddance.”

“Let’s hope this year goes better than the last one…”

“There’s a party at [name]’s house. You coming?”

“We’re headed to Times Square to watch the ball drop. You can tag along if you want.”

“Hey, last year of [politician your character doesn’t like]!”

“Just think of all the video games and movies that are being released this year…”

“No champagne for me. Designated driver.”

“Giving up chocolate for new year’s? I give it a week.”

“We’ve had a big year.”

“I plan to hit five parties before midnight.”

“3… 2… 1! HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

“Want a party hat?”

“Champagne?”

“Three biggest moments from this year?”

“It’s nearly midnight… have you seen my date?”

“Ah, yes, it’s almost midnight, which no one is going to kiss me at.”

“This time last year, I was living in a motel. This is definitely an improvement.”

“I’ve heard ‘Auld Lang Syne’ six times tonight and it’s only 11:30.”

“And to think, this time last year I was dating you.”

“I need someone to kiss at midnight. You up to it?”

“I need your help. I want to kiss [name] at midnight, and I need you to help me make it happen.”

“It’s New Year’s. Aren’t we supposed to be making out?”

“Oh, God, my ex is here. Pass the champagne.”

“Look, I know you’d rather be in bed, but could you at least pretend to be excited?”

“A toast to my amazing friends, and to the new year!”

“I should’ve been in bed two hours ago.”

“Are you sure [name] is up to stay awake until midnight? I mean, s/he’s only [age]…”

“Psst. Hey. Hey, wake up. It’s midnight. Make your resolutions.”

“I swear, if next New Year’s, we’re in the same place we are now, shoot me. Just do it. I’m serious. Just shoot me.”

“I remember when I’d get so excited for New Year’s…”

“Y'know, New Year’s sort of loses its punch when you stay up until 2 AM every night anyway…”

“I like to think we grew up this year.”

“No firecrackers this year. The neighbors complained.”

“I’m tipsy, covered in streamers, surrounded by hung over people, I have Auld Lang Syne stuck in my head, and I don’t know where my cell phone is. It is New Year’s.”

“You know, under the circumstances, I think this isn’t such a bad impromptu New Year’s party.”

“I can’t believe you gave our son/daughter champagne!”

“Come on, it’s New Year’s Eve, you can’t spend the whole party hiding in the bathroom!”

“How much longer?”

“Any good New Year’s specials on?”

“I’ve had a glass of champagne, I made my resolution, I watched the clock strike midnight. I’m going to bed.”

“You’re crazy. That place is always a zoo on New Year’s.”

“Just pick an outfit so we can go. I mean, it’s just a New Year’s party, it’s not a black-tie event.”

“We should probably get back to the party.”

“What are you doing out here on the roof? The party’s inside.”

“Snow on New Year’s! Wish it had bothered to show up for Christmas…”

“Where’s [name]? S/he’s my ride.”

“I rented a limo. We are arriving to that party in style.”

how i deal with my feelings

never talk about them

barely acknowledge them

hope they go away

i don’t, basically

that’s what i’m saying

you almost say seven but the answer floats in your lungs like rising mud. you shift your shoulders. some part of you is already forming an excuse. that it’s not that bad sometimes. one, two, three on a day that the clouds are out. you’re just complaining about stuff. yesterday you laughed past a brick of a four, does that make the brick come down to a two-point-five.  the solid seven panic attack of last tuesday feels somehow like a little thorn, just a regular day full of a gentle three-point-nine earthquake rocking after yesterday’s close-to-an-eight. see but if tomorrow you have a real bad day, it will make today look simple.

and what if. what if tomorrow it’s a big old red eight-point-nine. like one of those days where sirens are going off in every part of you but you’re stuck behind a glass window watching it all burn down. like one of those days that your skin against the air feels foreign. like too much of everything. like sitting-in-the-shower, like can’t-eat, like the tide isn’t just coming in, it came while you were sleeping and now you’ve gotta learn how to swim. like bounce me against a bullet hole kind of day.

you keep numbers like nine and ten way out of reach. those are for the people who really are suffering. you’ve got no excuse. nine and ten are funeral numbers, for real problems, not yours, no. and sometimes you’re fine. and you’re kind of used to it. and it’s not sad, it’s just numb like a television caught on static. numb like i can’t remember if i care about this. numb like nothing works but i can’t be bothered to fix it. that’s not sad that’s every day stuff. everybody feels like this, right? feels like they’ve been shut off. right.  

maybe five. right in the middle. like not gonna shoot myself but i’m not wasting your time. a nonanswer. like could be worse could be better. like i need help but i don’t want you to worry even though i need someone to worry about me because i can’t worry about myself. maybe five. but what if five is too small. what if five is too big. what if -