Don't cry over spilled bubbly.

Though to be honest, I wouldn't blame you if you did. I mean, I did. Something about spilling a drink meant to signal in the new year leaves you with a marginal fear of the incident being prophetic, doesn't it? Then, when I finally did get a sip, my brother, Brandon, told a joke and it came out my nose. So to sum up what happened, I feel like my bubbly was telling me, "This year'll suck, but you'll laugh a lot."
New Years traditions, my family and I go see our city's hockey team (who lost, but there were a bunch of fights so it made up for it, I guess), we bet on how many goals we think there are going to be in the game (mine bet would have been right if the bet had been "How many goals are there going to be in the first ten minutes". Dad claims he won since he was closest (he guessed seven and there were ten) but mom said you only win if you get the number exactly right (even though we've played it as who guesses closest since forever), this is followed by going home and playing Pictonary, which, also by tradition, I lose. It doesn't matter that I play with different people some years, I always lose. Then we watch the ball drop, blah blah blah, and drink bubbly (see above).
So Happy New Decade, everybody. Brandon said it's going to be awful, since calling the year "ten" just sounds dumb. He claims calling years "nintey-six" and "oh-four" sounded cool, but these next ten are just going to be awkward. I didn't see anyone with the dumb 2010 glasses (the one is a nose piece) but Dad did.
2010, quite possibly the second or first most significant year of my life, is here.