Traditionally, my New Year’s resolutions come with a hefty dollop of guilt. I don’t, by any means, think I’m alone in this. The very nature of a list of resolutions involves tasks that we feel a nagging need to do — lose weight, get married, lose weight before getting married, etc. Since my birthday is January 5th, I get to feel the traditional pressure to step up my expectations for the new year coupled with the cold breath of mortality on my neck. Yay! And by February, of course, if not by January 7th, all these resolutions — eat fifteen organic vegetables an hour; organize ten years of paperwork by yesterday; raise polite, well-behaved, and grateful children to adulthood — have fallen by the wayside.
It is hard to describe how good I am at graphic design (no martyr).
This year, I’ve decided that one resolution is going to get rid of that sad failure-feeling: No Martyrs.
I’m going to resolve to do a bunch of things I like this year, and maybe the things I don’t like will sort of fall into line. Maybe not. I don’t care. I’m not going to be a martyr, sitting around waiting for someone to give me permission to have a fulfilling life. I’m turning [redacted] years old tomorrow, and I plan on having a lot more fun starting immediately.
This will also make a lot of other people’s lives a lot happier, since a martyred mama is a bitterly sarcastic mama, and if mama is bitterly sarcastic everybody is bitterly sarcastic. Nothing is sadder than a four-year-old making biting comments under his breath.
No Martyrs: New Year’s Resolutions
1. Self-imposed moratorium on gift knitting
I love knitting for others, but, as a result, I rarely knit things I want to knit because I don’t think other people would like them. Also when you are knitting an already late gift, every stitch is infused with profound guilt and resentment. Everyone loves gifts like that.
So I am knitting myself a birthday present, and it is already almost late, and I do not care.
Pattern: Saroyan by Liz Abinante
It’s really fun, with mindless bits coupled with fun bits, i.e. perfect for my lifestyle. It is, implausibly, my first lacy scarf knit for myself.
Yarn: Lonesome Stone Alpaca Worsted in Shades of Aspen Leaves
Buttery soft yarn that I bought on vacation in Grand Lake, Colorado, which was thus Too Nice To Do Anything With. Not anymore! The color is gorgeous and periodically there are little bits of vegetable matter, signifying that the animals who produced the fiber hung out under the sky and thus have happy lives.
2. Finally Sign Up for a Graphic Design Class With Cathy Z.
I have been a closet scrapbooker ever since I discovered my first issue of Simple Scrapbooks, a now-defunct magazine that, instead of just relentlessly pushing product, tried to teach fundamentals of graphic design in a friendly and entertaining way. Central to this process was Cathy Z., my first graphic design crush (yes, it’s a thing! shut up) whose devastatingly simple layouts taught me that scrapbooking could be an art form. I bought both her books, I relentlessly lurk on her blog, and I just signed up for a twelve week online class with The Master. I AM NO LONGER A CLOSET SCRAPBOOKER. I WANT TO MARRY PATTERNED PAPER. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ME.
P.S. In the interests of no more martyrdom, I will probably be subjecting you to scans of my layouts. No Martyrs!
3. Just Buy Some Pants, Already. On Clearance.
Finding out your favorite jeans don’t fit is like throwing on your coat, going down to the garage, and discovering you can no longer squeeze into the front seat of your car. It is horrifying and Not Tenable. Jeans are the car of clothes (?). I am not a martyr, needing pants does not make me a more devoted mother or get me to the gym, I bought three pair of pants at Banana Republic yesterday.
On clearance. 30% off clearance prices, actually. Loving clearance racks is not part of my martyrdom.
4. Join a Gym
I really did like the Wii Fit for a while there, but I have always loved belonging to a gym. I love the anonymous healthy-minded people around me; I love the unlimited weights and machines; I love the lack of rain; and I was coming up with all these reasons why we couldn’t afford it.
We joined the Y. They have childcare, which I have used several times, and SHOWERS where there are no CHILDREN. And exercise equipment and what have you. Training for a 5K is suddenly 100% less impossible, not to mention all the physical therapy I have been not doing. Also running at 12 mph while listening to Jay-Z and watching Gordon Ramsay scream obscenities at a hapless restaurant owner — subtitled — is amazing.
5. Make My Room Nice
Our bedroom is the worst room in the house. It is where we keep things that need to be thrown away or donated, along with whatever laundry we have not gotten to in a month, and also all my non-knitting craft stuff from American Crafts Thickers to my cheapo Singer, and two adult-sized bicycles! It is not a nice place for sewing, or scrapbooking, or, really, sleeping. It sucks.
Step one of the redecorate is to complete an Amy Butler August Fields Duvet Cover (pdf link to pattern). This is the closest thing to martyrdom on my list because of all the stupid cutting I am having to do before I can even plug in the Singer. However, the martyrdom is mitigated by the fact that I bought incredibly pretty (on clearance!) fabrics to make the cover.
When it’s done, there will be a ray of coral sunshine in my bedroom, trust.
6. Write the Fun Stuff
If something isn’t entertaining, exciting, or something I am happy to see on a page, I’m not going to be writing a lot of it in 2010. Are you listening, Failed, Unnamed Contemporary Romance? You’re out. 2010 is the year of the Historical with Paranormal Elements around here.
7. Miscellaneous
Eat and drink things I like to eat and drink, without feeling bad later.
Watch offensive and exploitative television for pure entertainment value.
Read more trash.
Volunteer for school tasks that sound interesting or hilarious.
Hire a singing coach.
Learn to swim, but only if I feel like it.
Use all the nice stuff that is for company only.
Limit children’s extracurriculars.
Rock out daily.
8. Go to the dentist
Well, I’m on my way there now, so I figured I might as well put something on the list that was about to get done anyway.
Happy New Martyr-Free Year!
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