I’m really looking forward to New Year’s and 2010, not only because of the parties or the celebrations, but because the New Year signals a fresh start, a new beginning, a second chance. New Year’s is all about change in your actions and outlook on life, but every year, the only thing that varies is the resolution itself. This year is going to be different. This year, 2009 is not the only thing I’ll be saying goodbye to: New Year’s resolutions have officially left the building of sale-crazy, sleep-deprived, zombie shoppers in search of the perfect gift.
Resolutions are infamous for being ignored and for creating a whole bunch of miserable (and hungry) people. Let’s be realistic here. What’s the fun in actually sticking to your tree-bark soup diet in an attempt to shed a few pounds? Even if slimming down is the key to ultimate happiness, are the months spent wallowing in calorie-less misery truly worth the trouble? Spending 350 out of 365 days trying to avoid the chocolate and slim down is simply not worth it for me. That being said, I think that the real question here would not be about the sacrifice of happiness in order to achieve goals, but on how anyone could survive that long without chocolate. It tastes better than tree-bark, that’s for sure. I believe that happiness is the journey, not the destination, and for me, that journey does not involve tree-bark. Whatsoever.
For others, the New Year means a New Image: hair-cuts, saggy pants, neon/glow in the dark shoelaces, and a complete personality makeover are all part of establishing a new and improved rep. These transformations are initially shocking and radical, but let’s face it: we’re not Optimus Prime. You can buy as many pairs of saggy pants as you want, and shave your head to mimic crop circles, but these are merely changes on the surface. Attaining a new image is an ongoing process; it’s just not going to happen in the span of one year, after all, Rome wasn’t built in a day (and apparently neither was Arcadia High School).
Saggy pants aside, 2009, in retrospect, was a truly remarkable year. Looking back on it, I know that regardless of whether people decide to set New Year’s resolutions for 2010 or not, the coming year is still going to be spectacular. In fact, any year without tree-bark soup on the menu will be just fine with me.
Resolutions are infamous for being ignored and for creating a whole bunch of miserable (and hungry) people. Let’s be realistic here. What’s the fun in actually sticking to your tree-bark soup diet in an attempt to shed a few pounds? Even if slimming down is the key to ultimate happiness, are the months spent wallowing in calorie-less misery truly worth the trouble? Spending 350 out of 365 days trying to avoid the chocolate and slim down is simply not worth it for me. That being said, I think that the real question here would not be about the sacrifice of happiness in order to achieve goals, but on how anyone could survive that long without chocolate. It tastes better than tree-bark, that’s for sure. I believe that happiness is the journey, not the destination, and for me, that journey does not involve tree-bark. Whatsoever.
For others, the New Year means a New Image: hair-cuts, saggy pants, neon/glow in the dark shoelaces, and a complete personality makeover are all part of establishing a new and improved rep. These transformations are initially shocking and radical, but let’s face it: we’re not Optimus Prime. You can buy as many pairs of saggy pants as you want, and shave your head to mimic crop circles, but these are merely changes on the surface. Attaining a new image is an ongoing process; it’s just not going to happen in the span of one year, after all, Rome wasn’t built in a day (and apparently neither was Arcadia High School).
Saggy pants aside, 2009, in retrospect, was a truly remarkable year. Looking back on it, I know that regardless of whether people decide to set New Year’s resolutions for 2010 or not, the coming year is still going to be spectacular. In fact, any year without tree-bark soup on the menu will be just fine with me.