Having it my way for New Year’s

More often than not, I turn down dates for New Year’s Eve because I have my own tradition that makes that evening one of my favorites of the year.

After the harried busyness of the Christmas season, which now begins with Thanksgiving, I want to have a quiet evening. My idea of perfect happiness is to settle down by a roaring fire, order in way too much Mexican food and watch a couple of good movies. It’s my gift to me.

So when he called the other day and asked me to join him for a black tie glitzy event, I thought first of that wonderful quietness I normally enjoy on the last night of the year as a tribute to all my other non-quiet 364 nights.

“Wellllll,” I began, edging toward explaining, as I do annually, about my beloved tradition. Then, I thought of that gorgeous, black sequined (and yes, Mama, it’s sexy) dress that I’ve only worn once and the matching black and rhinestone encrusted, four-inch sandals that make my small feet look ridiculously like Barbie’s.

He laughed, knowing that with me, there’s always a story. “Well what?”

I was torn. It was a choice that no woman should ever be called upon to make — a sacred night of peaceful retreat or the opportunity to prance around in a fancy dress and stunning stilettos.

“Well,” I repeated, trying to buy time.

He chuckled lightly, the kind of chuckle that a guy makes up because he doesn’t mean it. “Listen, if you keep beating around the bush, I’m gonna get my feelings hurt.”

“It’s not you. It’s just, well, can I be honest?”

I felt his wince across the phone. “Just for the record,” he replied, “I’m not always enamored with all of your moments of honesty. But go ahead.”

I laughed. You have to love such a guy. Then, I told him of my normal New Year’s Eve tradition.

“You know, I’m thinking that sounds better than my offer. Want company?”

I wasn’t quite ready to give up the idea of sequins and rhinestones in exchange for a turtleneck and jeans. Then, I did what any woman would have done had she been in my high heels. I asked for more time. And like any man who has ever dealt with a woman who wanted her sequins and turtlenecks, too, he agreed.

I’ve always been told that superstition is that whatever you’re doing when the clock strikes midnight on Dec. 31 is what you’ll do for the rest of the year.

Not true. I’ve tried kissing, sleeping, praying, talking, visiting and listening. And none of the aforementioned have I spent the next year doing exclusively.

But one New Year’s tradition I’m sticking with is eating black-eyed peas and collard greens.

I don’t like collard greens but I eat them because I like the greenback money they promise to bring. Last year, Mama noticed that I was swallowing them whole, with a yucky look on my face, and she said, “You have to chew them. If you don’t chew them, it don’t count and you won’t make any money.”

“No, no, no,” I replied. “You can’t make up the rules.”

“Why not?” my sister asked. “You do.”

Good point. That’s why I’m thinking that this year, I’m going to have a quiet black tie event at my house. It’ll be small and intimate with lots of Mexican food, a good movie and a fabulous black sequined dress.

I don’t like collard greens but I sure like making up the rules.