On New Years day, I awoke in my bed in my baby blue Rodarte dress, carefully chosen to ring in the new year and now longing for its previous and more stable home on a lonely wooden hanger. After noticing the absence of one five hundred dollar shoe, I felt immediate panic followed by a tickled association between myself and Cinderella. This self appreciation, however, I dismissed rather quickly upon my first glimpse in my mirror. My Grace Kelly curls now resembled more of an Ethel Mertz coif, and I realized, like Cinderella, after the stroke of midnight New Years Eve presents nothing more than a slow and steady demise.
Rest assured, I am not referring to excessive drinking. Sure, I honored the festivities and and befriended a crystal flute of bubbles. I looked into the eyes of all my dearest and toasted the new year with genuine optimism. The debauchery, however, I left to the usual suspects, and returned home somewhat soberly and undeniably somberly with the sun at my back and threatening to rise.
I lay wide awake in my bed overwhelmed by the gravity of the once approaching, now fully present, daunting New Year.
Why such a dismal outlook to the turn of the New Year? On the first, I come face to face with my greatest foe. Immediately following the highlight of my calendar, January is an unwelcomed and aggressively punctual occurrence to succeed a month of merry entertainment and pleasant reinforcement of relationships.
A green and fragrant Evergreen challenges its namesake and finds a home on a curb; brown and brittle, it impatiently awaits a dump truck kept company by puddles which, erect, once answered to ”Frosty”. All that is left of these snowmen now are pools of sleet, housing irrelevant and soiled items such as a scarf, buttons, corn cobs, and of course, a single carrot which in its prime was a nose, but today is a reminder of the fleeting nature of holiday content.
We are given one day to accommodate this transition. We are given one night to mourn the loss of the year and welcome the next. Nostalgia for what is left behind rivals excitement for all that lies ahead, and the focus falls on an assessment of what we have, what we don’t, and what we desperately need to obtain beginning on January first.
On New Years Eve I crumble at the mercy of the persistent hands of a clock. Any effort to prolong the stroke of midnight are made in vain, as the seconds arrive in unwavering and mathematical succession and the impending doom of the a new calendar year looms in a daunting queue in the rafters.
This year, I resolve to embrace my enemy. I will transform my dislike to an affection so strong that I must stay up all night on the thirty first, desperate to absorb every last moment of the once hated, though clearly only misunderstood, month of January.
I now have moss green German leather gloves with gold grommets that warm my hands sometimes even after I have gone indoors. Similarly, I have learned that hats are not just a novelty and instead a necessity! If worn on a cold day, believe it or not, they do much more than accessorize the last ten percent of a once incomplete outfit. My cozy queen size bed is adorned with an electric blanket, consistently warmed to level nine, and just at the foot rests hand sewn mohair bunny slippers compliments of my mother. My cabinets are stocked with chai and chamomile tea and hot cocoa, my drawers with heavy wool socks, and my calendar filled with cozy dinner parties where I will sip hot cider with friends and watch the snow fall through hand-smeared windows in a foggy pane of glass.
It is this outlook that will transform this month for me. For New Years I resolve to have the best January I possibly can. Therefore, on the first day of the year, I ignored my lethargy and leaped from my bed to cook black eyed peas and collard greens and treat my best friends to a special dinner and good luck for the entire year. It is this same luck that I wish for myself as I anticipate the forthcoming where, using this day as an example, I take whatever I am given and even if it is not immediately desirable, transform any hand into the perfect play.
I believe in a reciprocated exchange of energy, and I believe that ultimately you are given what you put out into the world. Take note, 2010: this year, I am expecting some really magical gifts.
