Obligatory New Year's post

You all know how I feel about sharing my resolutions for the coming year, but I did promise to fess up to how I did on last year's resolutions (okay, two years ago...).

The fact is, not too shabbily. Last year I my resolve to two-fold: to continue my quest for serenity and to begin to eat more heathfully. We'll get to the first later in order to dispense with the more boring of the two, because actually I started out the year vowing that I was going to cook in such a way that I wouldn't be contributing to Dirtman gaining weight. I hope you appreciate how carefully-worded that was. At no point did I want to be the one responsible for Dirtman's weight loss because, frankly, that's none of my business. But I do recognize that, as the only one who can consistently conjure a meal around here, I can't ignore my role in his health. In the back of my mind was, of course, the thought that perhaps I might, myself, shed a few pounds.

And to get it out of the way: I did and I kept it off, though it was a meager 25 pounds. But it is still gone, through holidays and mood swings and everything else, it's gone.

But more importantly is the way I view food and eating and that whole issue of "losing weight." I refuse to buy into the hype anymore and refuse to compare myself to people who just happened to luck out on the metabolism spectrum. I'm not wasting another minute on that damn treadmill staring at the wall because it gives me a "calories burned" read out and a measurement of miles walked. I'm taking my dogs for a walk through the woods and if that, coupled with dragging three loads of laundry around the house and vacuuming 11 tons of dog hair, isn't enough exercise for a 50-year-old woman, then someone is skewing the stats for their own benefit, whatever that may be. I pay attention to nutrition and this past year made it a point to learn more about what my body doesn't need and what it does need. And that's it. If I'm lucky I've got maybe 30 years to live and I'm not spending it squirting lemon juice on lettuce and saying, "MMMM, I love this so much better than Starbuck's coffee ice cream."

Enough about that.

As for my ongoing quest for serenity, this year was a real challenge (like Randy Quaid in Independence Day, I picked a hell of a time to give up drinking -- which I also did for real this year because it started to mess with my blood sugar so much. I do still have a drink every now and then, but I always regret it and it doesn't happen very often.) Anyway, as previous posts have indicated, this year did not lend itself to calmness and peace. But the whole point in something becoming a lifestyle is that it is not drastically affected by other issues swirling about.

Still, I've managed to stay calm this year and not get stuck in panic mode. Panic makes you do dumb things, like listen to the wrong people, people who claim to be "helping" when, in fact, they have a whole other agenda, usually involving making themselves feel good or putting you "in your place." Whenever you hear between the lines of what someone is saying the phrase, "Who do you think you are?" this is probably the wrong person to listen to.

Which brings me to my big lesson learned this year, which is to listen to my gut (or, for the more sentimental among you, my heart). I'm more intuitive than I've given myself credit for and, if we'd acted on that, we'd be better for it. I don't mean to be so cryptic about situations. Honestly, every issue I'm referring to is just too stupid, boring and convoluted to go into in depth. Believe me, you're not missing out on something salacious.

All totaled, as a person I'm better off this year than last. That may sound contradictory with what's been going on around here lately, but its true. And that's all I can ask of a year.

So long, 2007. You were by far the fastest-moving year of my life. I have a feeling this is a trend.