With Resolve

Consider the New Year’s resolution as an entity: We make these sweeping proclamations about things that we’re going to do starting on the one day of the year when it’s statistically probable that we have vomit in our hair, during a time of year where it’s statistically probable that the temperature is going to be in single digits, or at least hovering near a number that, were it an age, wouldn’t be legally allowed to drink. In short, New Year’s resolutions are doomed for failure.

This is not to say I haven’t made my fair share. In 2014, I aspire to:


This is a link to my shockingly-similar blog post from last year:


And to one from nearly two years ago, which, while not identical, is reminiscent:


My NYRs have not changed for the past seven or eight years. In addition to being shamefully generic (seriously, there are, like, two people in the world who are pleased with their physique, and they’re suffering from other issues – namely, Narcissistic Personality Disorder) these aren’t resolutions, per se; after nearly a decade of thinking about these things and doing them, to some degree, they’re more just my life guidelines.

Another annoying thing about New Year’s resolutions is that if they’re not horrifically broad, they’re utterly unquantifiable. One girl at work said her New Year’s resolution was to be on time. What does that mean? For everything? Only sometimes? If she’s on time twice a week, is that good? Or does she need to be on time all the time? I feel like she’ll be on time for a week, be content with the fact that she can achieve a state of punctuality should she want to, and dissolve back into a chronic state of delay.

What about those people who say they want to be nicer? Honestly, I think that a person who wants to be nicer is probably already pretty nice, and just has low self-esteem. The people who truly need to be nicer don’t truly want to be nice; they probably have resolutions like “Divorce Third Wife,” “Be More Demanding but Tip Less,” or the classic “Plow My Beemer Through Even More Red Lights.”

More than anything, though, hasn’t the proliferation of awkward selfies proven that we still can’t see ourselves as we truly are? As someone with a Bachelor’s degree, a CELTA, and 6/7ths of an MFA who has worked in restaurants for the last six years, I am clearly not the person who should be making my own New Year’s resolutions. Someone else should analyze my life and decide what I should resolve to do in 2014. In other words, we need to make New Year’s resolutions for other people. Have you ever seen an episode of “What Not To Wear” in which the bad dresser sends footage of herself walking around Minneapolis in cropped purple overalls and an Indian headdress? No. She thinks she looks fly; it’s up to her friends and loved ones to shame her on national television until she understands that she is living incorrectly.

For example, though everyone is interested in bettering their body, there are some people who could probably go another year without exercising and only eating lard and still fit into a single subway seat. Other people, however, need to get in better shape NOW. These are the people who do NOT fit into a single subway seat, but rather spill over into mine. I should tell them: “Ma’am, you need to lose weight in 2014.” Or if I see a sexy guy on the one train and his iPhone background is him and some bros, I would do well to say: “Hello, you need to come to dinner with me in 2014.” I’m waiting for someone to come up to me and say: “Excuse me, I think in 2014 you should resolve to graduate school and get a job that doesn’t involve tips, and on that note, you should probably stop dating people who are deranged. And while your tattoos are incredible, I have this friend who will finish your left sleeve for free. He’s single, actually…”

Hate to leave, but I have to run. Literally. After all, it’s a resolution.



Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this:
close-alt close collapse comment ellipsis expand gallery heart lock menu next pinned previous reply search share star