A new decade has started, and I'm still trying to figure what that means for me. You're supposed to be excited about the start of a new year, but I can't say I am. Not yet, at least. Some of this lack of enthusiasm is rooted, I'm sure, in my I'm-so-worn-out-ness from this past year. I lost a lot. But I learned some lessons, too. I guess that's how it works.
I've never been one for making grandiose New Year's resolutions. I've long believed if you're going to make a change in your life, make a change. You don't have to wait until Jan. 1 (or the first Monday that follows it). When I decided I'd start drinking at least eight glasses of water a day, it was the beginning of May. And unlike that one time I decided at the beginning of the year I was going to lose 20 and didn't, I've stuck with my mid-year water-drinking resolution.
Don't get me wrong: I do appreciate the new beginnings a new year can bring; I just can't seem to get into the same thing that everyone else is into. It's the rebellious spirit I've been told I have that rises up in me. If the masses dig it (examples: Rihanna's "music," red roses and "The Tyra Show"), I don't. That's just the way I am. Call me a snob. (I've been called worse.) When you consider the fact that most people don't hold fast to their resolutions until Mississippi's spring heat turns into Mississippi's real heat, I figure there's no point in going along with the crowd.
But this year is different. I started wondering: "What if everyone who makes resolutions they don't keep every year are better off in the long run than I am?" I'll need a year to be able to make the determination for sure, so I'm being anti-self and coming up with a few resolutions to start my year off like everyone else:
1. I promise myself that I will read and write more. This may mean that I get my cable turned off, but I won't make that a resolution because I may not turn off my cable and then what will that make me? A liar. Exactly.
2. When I'm asked out on a date this year, I vow to pause before saying "yes." A little bit of awkward silence builds character. If the guy who asks me, however, has gold teeth, doesn't match his verbs and subjects, or follows up any declaration he makes with "Ya feel me?" I vow to use the pause I take to find the best way to remix the classic line: "I'm sorry. It's not you; it's me."
3. I am determined not to become a "beauty pageant mom." Those women scare me. But, of course, the other thing that will ensure I'm not one of these scary parental units is the fact that I don't have a daughter. Or a son. Or a dog. They have doggie pageants, too, you know?
4. I resolve to not start smoking. I hate smoke. I hate the smell of smoke. It makes me choke and gives me a headache. So this year, I vow that I won't do it. The only thing worse than saying, "She makes me sick," would be having to say that when I am the 'she' to whom I'm referring.
5. I will eat this year. Eating healthier would help me be healthier, and I'd inevitably lose weight. This always helps in pursuits of vanity, and I have tentative plans to be more vain this year, but whether I eat junk or decide to try a raw food diet over the next 12 months, one thing's for sure: I will eat.
6. If I'm not treating myself to a mani/pedi courtesy of Marley at Fondren Nails, when I add a little razzle dazzle to my day by polishing my own nails, I will use both a base and topcoat. This may not seem like a big deal, but as I type this, I'm looking at the sumptuous gray nail lacquer that's chipping already because I'm lazy. Also, chipped fingernail polish may have a direct correlation to the number of yeses (see resolution No. 2) I can dole out. It may be a stretch, but I'ma stretcher.
7. And finally, even on my darkest days this year, at the end of each, I will identify one thing that brought me joy, no matter how small. A joy journal, I'll call it. Even if this resolution-making thing doesn't make for a better year this year, I'll at least have something that's bound to center me for the beginning of 2011.
Those are my resolutions, if you can call them that. What are yours, if you made any? By the way, feel free to keep a joy journal with me. I'd appreciate the company.
Natalie thanks for returning home. Home is where the real love is. I like this picture of you. Do your thang and make us proud(er).