Thursday, December 31, 2009


I don't typically make New Year's Resolutions. Well, one year I did resolve to drink more Water, and that was the year I discovered Voss, so I guess that worked out ok. But otherwise, no.

What I do instead is assign a word to the Year. It isn't usually a word that describes me, or anything to do with me, it's more what I have in mind. For a couple years, the word was "incognito." For those years, I was a little turtle who just hid inside my shell. The first years I really poked my head out were 2008 and 2009.

And the word for 2009 was "impervious." I got the idea to use it when my friends would torture themselves over what they were going to wear to something or other. Because when it comes to fashion (if nowhere else), I can completely live up to the word "impervious." I don't care what's in-style. I don't care what's out. If I like it, and it feels good, and it fits, I will probably buy one in every color.  I don't feel compelled to put on pants to go to the Bakery on Saturday mornings and will frequently wonder out loud why anyone would (prompting my friend Greg to observe at Christmas Eve dinner, "gosh, where do I start? How bout cause it's the Law, for one thing?" -- there was some confusion before I clarified that I had worn pajamas to the Donut Store; I didn't just throw on a tank top and flip flops and call it a day).

This is not to suggest that I don't care about what I wear. I do. I just don't care much what other people think about what I wear.  Of course I have some regard for what's appropriate and what isn't -- for example, if I wear red to a funeral, it is admittedly because I am making a point. But if I want to wear something fabulous to dinner and everyone else is in jeans (don't even get me started on what I think of jeans), it would never occur to me that I am overdressed -- my heartfelt belief is just that everyone else is underdressed. Don't get me wrong, I'm not going to wear white after Labor Day -- I respect the laws of the Universe; I'm not an animal -- but I am not somebody who will probably never own more than one bra. (There were two, but that's another story.)

So, right or wrong, I wanted to extend that impenetrable sensibility to other areas of my life. Have I succeeded? No way. I should probably repeat it. Instead of that, I'm bequeathing it to a few of my friends who could use a dash of imperviousness.

This year, my word is "Ready."

In an unusual turn, my friend JD picked it out. I had been working on some variation of "Peace," but it never came out right. No matter what I used, it sounded either granola-y or political -- and both are fine of course, but not at all what I had in mind, and not what I intended.

"Ready" is a lot to live up to.
It will be much more challenging than "impervious."
But Cheers to JD for finding the right word. 

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