Tuesday, December 30, 2008
New Year's Revolution
Hi-YAH! Hi-YAH! Hi-YAH!
That's the sound of me ninja kicking in the new year.
I'm all hopped up on New Year's jolly, inhaling some serious 2009 spirit, and snorting all the pleasantness that arrives in the mail with my brand-new calendar. Furthermore, I am injecting--directly into my veins--some fresh hope for serious life-altering situations that will make my 2009 better than my 2008.
So, let's talk about New Year's resolutions and how much I hate them.
I'm one of those people who always makes the resolutions and then falls into that depressive funk we call February. (I mean, Valentine's Day? Seriously? Why don't they just mail me a razor blade and a bucket? And March? Don't even get me started. It plays with my emotions. It's warm one day, and then it snows again. The national state of being for those two months should be "drunk.")
Slowly but surely, as the winter continues and my skin dries out, my resolutions unravel and I once again find myself in September wondering where the year went.
So, I'm not going to tell you about some doomed-to-fail resolutions for 2009. I'm not going to make big plans, and set goals, and end up kicking myself for not following through with them. People who distribute pamphlets, high school guidance counselors, and self-help authors can talk all they want about goals and deadlines and accomplishments. But, really, that's not how life works.
As my mom always says, "Just when you think you're getting somewhere, the washing machine breaks down. Then, the dryer." And while she was specifically referring to her own washing machine and dryer at the time, it really is a fitting metaphor for life. Almost everything is outside of our control, although we like to pretend it isn't. And I'm not talking about some religious idea of some mighty hand of God or anything like that. I'm talking about nature, disaster, the occasional broken limb, snowstorms, and rogue bullets. No one makes a New Year's resolution to avoid such things. We just assume we will. Instead, we resolve to drop 15 pounds, take up water ballet, pay off our credit cards, and find meaningful relationships.
I always assumed that by 2009 I would be married, thin, glorious, and successful. Why? Because that's what happens to people in romantic comedies. There are always a few setbacks that last a few months. The cheating ex-boyfriend gets a drink thrown in his face and our protagonist saunters away to Aretha Franklin. She is later seen in a montage peeling wallpaper, knocking down walls with a large sledgehammer, and dancing around with glass of wine in her hand. "She's an independent lady now. Glory be! And now she's a-gonna take this world by storm." And she does. A perfect man falls into her arms and we leave her on the couch in the fancy apartment happy, happy, happy, and well-adjusted. Who knew that all she had to do was throw that drink and knock down some walls?
This year, instead of telling myself to exercise more, or work on being nicer, or pay off those credit cards (all things I really need to do), I am just going to congratulate myself on continuing to breathe in and out. Because isn't the basic New Year's resolution making it to 2010?