Resolutions: Why?

CaptureWhen I was a freshman in high school, I started naming my years instead of making “resolutions,” simply because I loathed filling out the “what are your goals for the new year” dittos in school as I found them to be A LOT of pressure. (Side bar: remember dittos? Ahh those were the days. Nothing like a fresh ditto.) I would always write something empty and meaningless down like, “get all A’s. Have straighter hair. Become a Spice Girl.” Spoiler alert: None of those things happened.

So yeah, I would name my years and reveal the name after the ball had dropped on New Years. I watched A LOT of Will & Grace (still do), and Jack really inspired my idea with his classic “JACK 2000,” which seriously made my life. So in a shameless attempt at plagiarizing I named my first year “KATE. 2002. THE EXPERIENCE.” Genius, right? I even have a picture of me waiting for the bus making a “2002” with my hands, and smiling like a jackass … braces and all. And no, I will not be sharing said picture.

I did this until last year, which I named, “KATE 2014, UNTITLED,” embracing everything minimalistic, and after over 10 years of naming my years, I kind of had a ridiculous cult following. What can I say, I’m slightly amazing at making the anticipation rise. After the ball would drop I would get flooded with texts asking what the name was, and after a while, I felt like kind of a big deal :::flips hair:::, who should put the name in lights or something and have a fancy reveal. Move over Ryan Seacrest, it’s all about the name reveal. Yeah … sigh … that never panned out. Damn you, Seacrest!

I won’t bore you with what I named all of my years, as there are way too many to list. But what I’m saying is, regardless if you are past the “ditto” stage of your life, making resolutions is a bunch of hogwash. GASP! I know, right? Naming my years for me was like giving a theme for the entire year. One year, I believe 2005, was “Know it. Feel it. Live it.” And you know what? I knew it. Felt it. AND lived it.

You see all these people in January flooding gyms, going on crazy diets, investing in ridiculous juicers that make funky colored drinks that ignite my gag reflex instantaneously, making insane plans to take down Zuckerberg with the next big Interwebs craze, and blowing up like nobody’s business (because that creepy old dude in the commercial is so convincing, am I right? NAWT). But you know what? Come February … it all fizzles.

Why set yourself up for failure by diving into these silly resolutions? Setting goals for yourself, or themes for the year like I did, is way more realistic. If you want to lose weight, make a plan for yourself. Don’t just invest in a gym membership and think that will fix your weight problem. Because unless you have a trainer whipping you out of bed in the morning and a chef making your meals, chances are the gym membership may get a little dusty.

Want to find a boyfriend or a girlfriend in the new year? Step out of your comfort zone (I believe 2007 was named “Stepping out of the box.”) Try a new activity, or a class, take up a language, do something different. Sure, online dating is fine, but why stop there? Not only will you up your chances at finding the “special something” (ew, I can’t believe I actually just said that … vom), but you will end up being a tad bit more interesting. Am I right?

So tomorrow night, if I hear anyone say slash slur, “THIS YEAR IS THE YEAR I’M GOING TO LOOK LIKE GISELE,” I’m going to straight up punch you in the face. You’ve been warned.


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