The worst thing that can happen to you at a New Year's Eve party is to jerk up from a comfortable seat on someone's sofa to the scream of kazoos.

Rats. You fell asleep and missed the dawn of another new year.

This wouldn't happen if they had the party at a sensible time. Who puts on a celebration in the middle of the night, anyway? The guests are out of small talk, there's nothing left on the snack table but those off-brand tortilla chips, the thrill has gone out of Twister, and everyone seems a little drunk — even if the party is at the home of your tee-totaling pastor.

The only reason we all whoop as the clock hits midnight is that we can finally go to bed.

There's no point in complaining, though. If you want to celebrate the arrival of 2012, you have to do it at 12:00:00, with a cheer, a huzzah or maybe even a kiss that lasts till about 12:00:04. (A few citizens of the central United States whoop an hour early while watching the big ball fall in Times Square at midnight EST, but that's cheating.)

Timing is everything in a New Year celebration, so don't fall asleep on the couch at 11:57:00 and miss it.

If you need a reminder of this point before heading off to Saturday night's big party, read the first few verses of Matthew 25, best known as the Parable of the Ten Virgins.

It's not as scandalous as it sounds: Ten young women are waiting by the door for the groom to show up and get a wedding party kicked into high gear, but he's slow and they all fall asleep.

Jerking to alertness when they finally hear the groom approach in the middle of the night, five of the women fuel up their lamps and run to meet him, merrily flicking their Bics, as was the custom in those days to show your partying spirit.

The other five, out of gas, are left in the dark. They run to a nearby 7-11 for more fuel, but it closed an hour ago. They are out of luck. They are in the dark.

They miss the party.

They miss the moment.

That's a sad story, especially if you can empathize by recalling what it feels like to jerk up from that sofa and realize it's 12:02 already, and your long hours of waiting were for nothing.

Whether you party Saturday night or not, you're about to begin a new year. It will probably be a rough one: The economy, your health, world conflict, natural disaster, personal grief. Who knows?

And this year begins as they all do, in the middle of the night, in the middle of winter, in a sloppy, miserable time when you'd sooner roll over in bed or curl up on the sofa than stand up.

Don't give in. Stand tall. Look forward. Look up. Hang in there.

The bridegroom is coming.