A word on the birth of the year

I love New Year's Eve. A night of magic and goodwill and finery and hope. My favorite holiday in the whole year. What better way to spend the last few hours of 2012 and the first few of 2013 than with laughter and music and marching around my darkened city dressed to the nines and with a new accomplice's hand in mine? Fireworks above the bay, seen from the sidewalk, all kinds of gifts tangible and intangible from strangers. I begin 2013 feeling simply: at home. Because this is my city, and my life. For the past six weeks or so I've had the worst anxiety I've ever had, but still somehow I feel confident. This is my life. It delights me. It is going to delight me.