It’s that time of the year again, when we’re supposed to take stock of the previous year and set goals for the year to come. Normally I drink some champagne on New Year’s Eve and make a lame vow to finally lose five pounds or cook more homemade meals. 2010-2011 feels different, though.
After deciding that a few toxins needed to be removed this morning, I headed to Omar’s Powerstrike class (Equinox, 76th and Amsterdam) and punched and kicked the demons (and maybe that five pounds??) away. Afterwards, I started resolving.
There’s a website called 43Things, in which you are supposed to list your resolutions and people will support you in reaching your goals. I suspect some people aren’t entirely serious about the site, like the guy who listed “get my wife to cuckold me.” I can really get behind the person who wants to “get rid of the clogged pores on my face,” though. Anyway, I figured that I already have a platform from which to overshare my deepest, darkest wishes, so here are a few for 2011:
- Cook more homemade meals. (Seriously. I really need to.)
- Pitch stories to scarier, bigger publications and really put myself out there, rejection be damned. My amazing 28-year-old editor at Fashionista has taught me to have more self-confidence and faith in my abilities. She’s a hard ass.
- Learn how to use my new DSLR camera. ALL the settings, not just the auto setting.
- Budget better. (MILo is probably having an aneurysm because of the shock of reading that.)
- Have more patience with my family. All of them.
- Avoid toxic people and influences. (My US Weekly subscription possibly falls under this category, but I can’t let go of that quite yet.)
There’s a lot more than this, but I’ve probably already bored you to tears. Plus I need to go figure out what to wear to a “Hot Tub Time Machine Aspen 1980’s” themed New Year’s Eve party tonight.
All I have to say is: don’t underestimate me, 2011.