Once upon a time New Year's Eve was the most anticipated night of my social calendar. I was young and single and living in New York City and had friends who lived right in the heart of Times Square. Living on 43rd Street left you fighting with tourists all year long, but come December 31st, it was the best location in town.
Our friends held a party each year, with way too many people jammed into a way too small apartment. One million people come to Times Square each New Year's Eve, and it was always tricky fighting your way through the snow and the barricades and the crowds to get to the party (in heels, no less!). We found that carrying your invitation with you helped, so you could hold it up to a kind policeman and beg to be allowed to cross Broadway.
A little before midnight we'd all head up the stairs to the rooftop of the building, where the ball loomed bright and beautiful across the street, and count down the new year along with the huge crowd gathered below. It was loud, and crazy, and when the confetti exploded.. downright magical.
Photo from The New York Times via The Craft Dept.