"Noruz" happened at 1:11a.m. (EST) this morning, according to the lunar calendar. I'm staying at my boyfriend's place this week while he's in London, and he lives near the U.N., so I was not surprised when my alarm woke me up for the New Year and I heard Persians out in the street screaming "Happy New Year!" Only in New York (and only near the U.N.)!
The Christmas tree equivalent for Noruz is called the "haftsin," which is an arrangement of several symbolic items. For my incomplete haftsin, I had gotten a purple hyacinth, two red apples, and a small plot of wheatgrass obtained from a the Union Square farmer's market (I had a hell of a time trying to find wheatgrass last year). I carted all this crap uptown to my boyfriend's loft in a paper Anthropologie bag. The doormen gave me weird looks. I then arranged this sorry state of affairs on the granite bar counter (between a few bottles of liquor--whoops) so that when I woke up in the middle of the night to "celebrate" all by myself in my underwear and glasses, I'd be sitting at the traditional haftsin. The hyacinth and wheatgrass had wilted. I perched on the bar stool and diligently began dialing each of my family members to wish them a happy new year. I was done by 1:20a.m. and promptly passed out. HAPPY NEW YEAR!
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