My 2008 New Year’s Resolution

My New Year’s resolutions have historically been to do things I knew I would do anyway–like drive 5 miles over the speed limit, or not eat peas. I like to feel successful in life, so this has served me well. But last year I made a resolution I knew would be a challenge for me to keep.

It all started last winter after my mom dropped off several storage totes filled with memorabilia from my childhood through my college years. My mom–who is a hopeless pack rat–had saved nearly everything I’d put a pencil to since kindergarten. I dug through the totes, re-reading it all, and spent the afternoon going from amused to embarrassed and back to amused as I rediscovered myself from years past. Like the letter I wrote to Madonna in elementary school, telling her I was her biggest fan and knew every word of her True Blue album–a letter it turns out my mother never mailed (which finally explains why Madonna didn’t instantly track me down to become her best friend). Or the generic thank-you note I received from the first President Bush–along with a picture of his dog Millie in the Rose Garden–after I wrote to him in 6th grade, detailing my ideas for an exit strategy in the Middle East. And one of the most amusing–a worksheet saved from elementary school where I had to write sentences using the week’s vocabulary words—one of them being “annoying”. I laughed out loud to discover I had written about “annoying Tim Niesman”–a classmate who later turned out to be the guy I dated through most of high school.

When I got to my college tote I came across a magazine clipping I had taped to the inside of my binder my freshman year which read: “Have you ever kept a journal? If so, when you look back over its pages, are you fascinated by accounts of what your past selves felt, said, thought, and did? Would you consider investing in your present and future selves by sitting down to write one page first thing each morning or last thing at night?”

I’d had brief bouts with journaling growing up. I found my most recent journal and was sad to see it didn’t have many entries–the last one being from 2001. I thought about the hours I’d just spent pouring over the years of my life, and then I thought back to that magazine clipping. It resonated with me–especially because I have an absolutely terrible memory when it comes to life events. Random facts and bits of knowledge will get in my head and never leave, but ask me what I did yesterday and I’ll have to think about it for a minute. I can recite for you today all 50 states in alphabetical order–something I learned in 4th grade–in under 30 seconds, but I can barely remember my college graduation. Flipping through that jouirnal, I mourned that I had nothing written down to capture the previous 6 years of my life, the world, hell–even the weather, from my eyes.

That’s when I decided my New Year’s Resolution for 2008 would be to keep a journal.

Inspired by that afternoon, I started off this resolution with the best of intentions. But then I got sidetracked when I decided I didn’t want to memorialize my thoughts, circa 2008, in a cheap old spiral-bound notebook. So the hunt for a journal my children would someday lovingly run their hands over ensued. Of course nothing was perfect enough once we brought my unborn children into it. I finally found a beautiful brown leather-bound journal with a lovely satin ribbon to mark the gold foil-lined pages. This was the kind of journal people made movies about–I could see it now. It was perfect. By now it was mid-January–but better late than never, right? At least that’s what I wrote to start off my first entry. Followed by re-writing the magazine clipping above. And then I didn’t crack that movie-bound bad boy until February–when I wrote a whole 3 more entries.

Well now it’s January 1, 2009. A time to reflect upon my resolution from 2008. Guess how many entries made it into that beautiful leather journal Kate Hudson will one day read as inspiration for the movie version of my life (with the requisite well-placed cameo by the real-life me in a diner scene, of course)?

Four.

Yep. Total.

Remember what I said about how I like feeling successful in life? Yeah. I was tossing that jagged little pill around in my mouth, not quite ready to swallow it, and kicking myself for not making “go to Starbucks” my resolution for 2008 when I realized–something else happened in 2008! Something completely unplanned, and utterly unexpected–but it happened all the same! In April 2008 I started this blog. And from April 2008-December 2008 I wrote 162 posts–all about things from my point of view. The world through my eyes. And yes, even a little bit about the weather. And while this blog is not the gold foil-lined tribute to my 28th year of life I had originally envisioned my children reading 50 years from now–it works.

So please allow me this moment to gloat. And maybe do a little dance. Because it turns out I’ve been successful in this little life challenge–my 2008 Resolution–without even trying!

Hey Madonna–call me. There’s still hope for us.

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