PEACHES GELDOF'S LAST CALL
"I'm off to eat a Krispy Kreme."
I have a love-hate relationship with New Year’s resolutions. On the one hand, the idea that I can rework my entire approach to life just based on a simple change in the calendar is very seductive. Of course, I never set modest – or even remotely reasonable – goals. Past examples include: “I vow to stop eating pizza,” “I won’t sleep in past 11 a.m.,” and “I won’t buy any colorful clothes for a year.” (I recently found the latter written down in an old diary – the motive behind it or why it was so important to qualify as a resolution still eludes me).
This story was published on December 8, 2009.
During the weeks leading up to Jan. 1, the air is filled with a mass hysteria caused by scores of people overindulging in the bad habits they wish to ban come that fateful date. I am no exception. Last year, I systematically ate my own bodyweight in pasta, chased it with Krispy Kreme donuts (my two major vices), and spent a week going out all night and sleeping in until 3 p.m. I have a feeling most of my peer group was doing much the same thing; as they knew, com New Year’s, the cigarettes that they were chain-smoking would have to be put out, and the cocktails they were clutching would have to be poured down the drain instead of their gullets. Soon, the days spent languishing in bed, only venturing out come midnight to go dancing, would be replaced by regimented work days and evenings spent sweating on a treadmill, and sipping on a sugar-free shake rather than a Jack and Coke. New Year’s resolutions are like an army of Grinches who truly steal Christmas.
The worst part of the whole scenario is that hardly anyone ever sticks to their promises. I can count on one hand the people I know who have managed to follow through on any of these self imposed vows for more than six months. My personal record hovers around three days, before I lapse into my old chocolate-fueled ways. I swear that I’ll return to virtuousness the next week, which turns into the next three weeks, which turns into the next three months… Before I know it, another New Year is fast approaching. I end up back where I started, only unhealthier, more run-down, and generally confused about how the downward spiral happened.
Apparently, losing weight is the most common resolution, closely followed by improving finances. Others in the top 10: getting in better shape, and quitting smoking. After those are wishing to go greener, getting a better job or education, spending more time with family, or helping other people more frequently. These are simple ideas, but more importantly, they signal a day and age in which we need a fresh start more than we thought. At a time when trying to save the planet or simply finding the time to sit and eat dinner with those closest to you has proven too difficult to warrant places in the top 10 “must do’s” of people worldwide, it’s tome to take the whole thing a bit more seriously. Maybe if we all actually stuck to our resolutions, the world really would be a better place.
This year, I’m replacing my random declarations (“Stop eating Pop-Tarts, Peanut M&M’s are allowed, though” from 2004) with more important things, such as “actually vote this year” and “recycle more” (both decided upon after researching this article). Maybe this time, I’ll stick to them. New Year’s resolutions aren’t fun when they involve things that not only seem impossible but also frivolous – in the end, who really needs or wants to stop drinking milkshakes or buying so many pairs of shoes? But when they involve issues that threaten the planet or a person’s general happiness, it’s time to start appreciating this weird little ritual. And on that not, I’m off to eat a Krispy Kreme.
Actually, I may just eat five.