The only thing I promised myself on New Year's Eve was no more Gatsby's in 2007; no more 1020 either. (Lianna made the second promise with me). I have to start branching out and finding a "regular" bar closer to where I live, so I can walk home instead of taking a cab or my two-subway commute at 2:30 in the morning.

My parents are coming back into town on Thursday to see my grandmother and aunt off to India, and I am so terribly excited for them to arrive. Unfortunately, it also means that after this weekend I won't be seeing them for a while. It used to be a joke whenever we talked about them moving to Jersey to be closer to me, but the more we talk about it the more I realize that's what I want.

This weekend tied up a lot of loose ends for me. In a way that's good, because although I didn't necessarily plan it this way, it will give me a lot of room to start fresh this year. I have a vague idea of where I want to be in the next twelve months, but plans always change. I'm flexible.

I broke it off with the bartender.

I went to visit him at work last night after barhopping on the Lower East Side. Nothing bad happened while I was there, I just wasn't feeling it. And so, when he kissed me on the cheek and said "see you soon" as I was leaving, I shook my head.

"You mean, I WON'T be seeing you soon?" he asked, looking a little confused.

I wanted to tell him "Do you really need an explanation?" but I didn't feel like being a bitch.

"It's a long story," I replied, smiling apologetically.

His face dropped. "Well, at least call or text message me soon," he said. And I smiled and I went out the door.

And that's that. It's for the best, I think. Because I deserve more than $20 cab fares and sex in the girls' bathroom after closing. There are a million other bars in New York, I can always find a different one to haunt.