After a bright burst of optimism, the year was ending with a painfully dark disappointment. Beginning in October, I had been wooed by a potential employer in beautiful Portland, Oregon. The position was a great fit, the culture was a great fit. They flew me out in mid-December for the final round. They asked for references and had me meet with a realtor. Then, the Monday after Christmas, they offered the job to someone else.

I was a wreck for the rest of the week. But then came New Year's Eve.

I've grown to love New Year's Eve. I use the week between Christmas and the 31st to mentally discard as much as possible and prepare to start fresh. I wasn't sure if I could shake the frustration and disappointment the last few months in one week, but I surely wanted to try. Marissa and I spent the evening at home, making a big dinner, listening to music and calling friends - my favorite New Year rituals.

I started the evening with an IPA Tripel by Brasserie D'Achouffe, which was given to me by my current boss. It wasn't as hoppy as a regular IPA, and not as spicy as many other Belgians. It was smooth and delicious, and it had me bobbing my head to the music in no time.

"I want this played at my funeral" I suddenly declared, while listening to "Boogie On, Reggae Woman" by Stevie Wonder. 

Some might say it was the beer talking. I say it was me feeling funky after being in a funk. I wanted to feel good. Also, the song (and yes, the beer) was making me feel how I want people to feel when they think of me: happy, maybe a little silly and, well, sexy.

Not long after that little outburst it was time to eat - pork tenderloin with mustard, pancetta and fresh sage, roasted with sweet potatoes and onions and served with sauteed cabbage. A recipe we got from Josée di Stasio. We paired this with a Cotes du Rhone. It was delightful.

And so was dessert.

We had a pot-less fondue. Basically just good chocolate melted with fresh espresso (I think we mixed in a little Tuaca as well), into which we dipped bananas, Clementines and ginger snaps. Marissa opened the sparkling wine, but I enjoyed a really tasty cream sherry.

At this point, things get a little fuzzy, but I do remember one thing very clearly: The Dancing.

Turns out Stevie Wonder was just a bit of foreshadowing, because by the time dessert was finished we had donned our crazy New Years hats and were dancing our asses off to just about everything my iPod could throw at us. I remember some James Brown, and some Missy Elliott, a little Ozomatli and maybe some Outkast? All I know for sure is that I was dancing like a fool and enjoying every minute of it. I wasn't thinking of what might have been. I was making a dance breakthrough.

Anyone who knows us well knows that Marissa can dance and I, well, enjoy watching Marissa dance. It's not that I don't like dancing, and I can keep time (I was a musician and hope to be again some day). It's just that I don't know what to do - with my body, that is. Dancing is about moving your body and that seems to be the part that eludes me.

Marissa instructed me to just mime everyday activities to the beat. You know, washing the windows, driving a car, digging a hole... Et voila! I knew what to do with my body! I was dancing! But then I started to run out of things to do. One can only wash so many windows. So we had to make more phone calls, asking for ideas. Marla had a good one: vacuuming. I must have vacuumed for a good 20 minutes. It was the funkiest bit of faux housework the world has ever known.

Soon it was midnight, and the sparkling wine flowed and more phone calls were made. I didn't get to talk to everyone I wanted to, but I did reach many of the people I love. That always feels good, whether there is chocolate and alcohol coursing through your veins or not.

And then the party was over, just like that - and much like how 2010 passed so quickly, or how it is I am now in my 40's, or the way every trip abroad starts out gloriously slow but ends too soon. It was time to go to bed.

This New Year's Eve, more than any other I remember, proved to me what I always say but sometimes stop believing: Nothing last forever. Peace, good food, new places, old friends, bad habits, economic crises, snowstorms, humid nights, favorite songs, and on and on - all temporary. The fact that I have a steady job now and a roof over our heads is testament to the fact that I will eventually have the job I want in a city where we want to live. And the fact that I had a blast on New Year's Eve 2010 means I am too lucky for words. 

So, Happy New Year and here is to the temporary nature of everything - thankfully that includes hangovers.