So I’m not really into New Year’s Eve as a holiday. It’s always a letdown, no matter how small your expectations are. At least, that’s how it has been for me as a single lady. Maybe when I’ve got someone special to fall asleep on the couch with at 11 pm with two juice glasses full of Martinelli’s, I’ll feel ok about it. It’s not the same when you’re drinking Martinelli’s with your cat, no matter how cute (very) or snuggly (she is fickle) the cat might be.
That being said, I do appreciate the date, the changing of calendars, all those ones – as a fresh start. I realize it’s entirely in my head but it works. It’s a chance to forgive yourself for the mistakes you’ve made over the past twelve months, and renew your commitment to yourself as a better, stronger person. Your ideal may be sexier, more toned, more well fed, well read, maybe even a better friend/parent/sibling/child. The beauty of the new year, I think, is a chance to allow yourself that new beginning and give you that bit of motivation you might need. Even if it only lasts till January 10.
My resolutions for this year are simple and attainable. In addition to my daily wishes of being more toned and svelte, classy and chic, intelligent and witty, I have resolved for 2010 to be more realistic about time. If you are a friend of mine, I hereby sincerely apologise for all the times I’ve been late to anything involving you – and this blanket apology is necessary because I am nearly always late. I come from a family that has historically been, let’s say, less than exactly *punctual* – but I believe I’m pretty much the slowest one. It stems, I think, from a strange sort of optimism that I will find the perfect shirt that camouflages my muffin top AND can style my bangs effortlessly in exactly ten seconds AND I have gas in the car AND there is no traffic on the freeway. Or, perhaps, teleportation is being approved by NASA right at the very moment I am making whatever plans these are, and it will be instantly available to everyone, everywhere, by the time I have tried on the fifteenth shirt and gone back to the first one, given up and bobby pinned the bangs back, and have five minutes to get across town, and I can just wish my way there.
I know, it’s ridiculous. It’s flaky, and it’s rude, and it’s just not classy. So I resolve to be realistic. And hopefully reduce to near zero the occurrences that anyone has to wait for me for more than six minutes.
My second resolution is recycled from a year or two ago – I want to buy a new book every paycheck. There are a lot of books I love – coffee table books about architecture and design and art, books about the histories of cities and churches and islands and etymology, and I am especially coveting the gorgeous fabric covered penguin classics just issued a few months ago. I have a lot of books, and I love having a lot of books (except when moving house), but strangely I don’t make it a priority to get new ones unless I am in Portland at Powell’s. I love them as tactile objects. I reread books endless times, and I love getting used ones – previously enjoyed ones – and especially look for ones that have notes on the front page (though never underlining or highlighting in the text). It’s a bit of history in itself, reading where the book has been. I am bringing this love back to the forefront by adding to my collection. To kick things off, today I purchased Piano: Renzo Piano Building Workshop 1966 to today. It was published in 2008 so it’s quite recent, and has gorgeous photos and sketches. I love it.
I hope you all had lovely holidays, and I wish you the best in 2010.
Cheers,
Abby
