Four days in, and this year suddenly doesn’t feel quite so new. I did my New Year’s Eve partying, made my resolutions, did a mental review of the year (and decade) I just wrapped up, and now I’m ready to get back to taking my time for granted like I’ve done with every other year I’ve lived through. In fact, I have gotten so good at taking time for granted that I can’t even keep track of my years anymore. My memories are noted on a flexible mental timeline marked mostly by pregnancies, jobs, and locations. As I get older and have more past years to add to the pile, I have more difficulty discerning one year from another and can’t remember if I bought my house in 2004 or 2005. Or maybe it was 2006... But whatever, it doesn’t really matter, this kind of time loss is inevitable with age. Or, at least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
Don’t be fooled by my aloof tone; while I may seem indifferent to this holiday, it is actually one of my favorites. You get a legitimate excuse to dress up and stay out late, there is no standard gift-exchange involved, it marks the end of the holiday season and the return to regular life, and the best part of all: Resolutions. I love resolutions. I love them so much that I make them constantly, all year long. When I was younger I used to agonize over my resolutions, and because I couldn’t choose just one, I would create list of all the things I wanted to change in the new year. This exercise always started out great, but by the time I made it to page five of the list, I would become depressed in the face of all the things I perceived to be wrong with myself. So I changed my rules and made a single vague and easily achievable resolution every year. For a long time my resolution was always to drink more water. Last year my resolution was to improve my social life, which I can honestly say I have done. This year my resolution is to read more. I keep it simple, I can’t berate myself too much when I don’t follow through, and we all know that I won’t follow through. None of us will. I’m sorry if that seems cynical, but relapse is a major component of the resolution, and without the failure, it’s just not right.
Another important part of the whole New Year package? The mental montage of the year gone by. In 2009 I read very few books, complained about the weather a lot, complained about my job a lot, lost some friends, gained some friends, wrote some screenplays and filmed some films, lost a few karaoke contests, lost some weight, broke a bone and shattered another, went up in a hot-air balloon, pissed some people off, broke some hearts, caused some drama and extinguished other drama, finally got back to the beach, got a new job, defended myself, got bit by a dog, cultivated an amazing group of people around me, did some crying, did some screaming, did some worrying, and ultimately, did not sleep nearly enough. It was a rough year, the most difficult year of my life, but I cannot say that it was a totally bad year. The downs were impossibly down, but the ups were incredible. I have no regrets, and I can’t wait to see what happens next.
So here's to another great year to come, with all the good and the bad and the impossibly stupid (which we all know is inevitable). Here's hoping that the weather improves, that the food is always good and cooked properly, and that we all get a little better at those things we suck at, like ending blogs and such. :)
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