My Turn

This Year, My New Year’s Resolutions Are All About Me

Allow me to be smug for a moment. Because when it comes to New Year’s Resolutions, there just is not a lot left for me to do—and I’m not even 40! Hike Mount Whitney? Done it. Natural childbirth? Yep. Learn Chinese? Ni hao ma. Read The Iliad in Greek? Matthew Arnold is entirely correct that swiftness is an essential quality of Homer’s poetry. Learn Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, even the third movement? Tres passé! Solve the Rubik’s Cube? Over and over and over again. Start a non-profit? Sure thing. Write a novel? What the hell do you think my facebook page is, people? (no, seriously, I’ve done that too).

This year’s resolutions are all things I’ve never done before. Since I’ve only got one year left to say I’m “in my 30s,” it’s time to start thinking about Numero Uno, aka my 13 year old son. No, wait, I mean ME!

• I resolve to spend $250 on new clothes for myself someplace other than a thrift store. They don’t even have to be on sale.
• I resolve to buy myself a new iPad rather than buying one for my son and taking his old one, as he proposes.
• I resolve to figure out how all my 40+ friends manage to look like they are 29 and to do whatever they do, even if it involves injections of deadly toxins.
• I resolve to go to Mexico. While there, I will not learn to speak fluent Spanish or construct an orphanage. I will sit on the beach, cerveza in hand, and read a novel. The novel will not be War and Peace. It will be some fluffy chick lit confection that Oprah loved.
• I resolve to stop selling my services and abilities short. When people want a project bid, I’ll include overages to account for the inevitable scope creep. Not many people can write 10 engaging articles on everything from financial services to spine surgery to tattoos with a turnaround time of three days. I am one of those people, and I deserve to be paid accordingly.

My son says I’m much more likely to succeed with more conventional resolutions (e.g., “run a marathon,” or “cure cancer.”). I say, I'll see you at Anthropologie. Just as soon as I lose ten pounds.