Here are some of mine.
In 2012 I will endeavour to Get My Shit Together. To start with I aim to make fewer spelling mistakes on Twitter due to drunkenness or the the fact that my iPhone screen is cracked and I really can't see what I'm doing. Ideally that will result in me seeming less incompetent and/or hypocritical. I really do love correct spelling.
In 2012 I'm going to fix the things that are broken. I'll stock up on super strength glue and tape and other things that are good for fixing. I may need a manual, or perhaps I'll just look up fixing strategies on the net. I am, after all, a modern woman. Things beyond repair are to be disposed of. Thoughtfully, responsibly their crippled/crippling presence banished for ever.
I'm going to embody more 'e' words in 2012. Energetic. Enthusiastic. Empathetic. Hopefully I will become less Erratic (or Eccentric. Surely I'm still too young for that).
I'm pretty sure the world won't end in 2012. But, keeping in mind that it might (I mean, it always * might *, we've all seen Armageddon, right?) I feel like I should do more seizing. Of the day, the moment, of opportunities. So don't get too close, because you never know, I might just seize you.
I'm going to make time. With my bare hands, fashioning it out of whatever I can find lying around the house. Rubber bands that held my mail together, bits of string. Discarded wrapping paper. I'm crafty like that, plus I'll have glue left over from all my fixing. What will I do with all this time that I'll have, brightly coloured and haphazardly constructed? I guess I'll give it to the people I love and hope they appreciate it.
In 2012 I'd like to be better with numbers. More aware of the ones creeping up and up on my credit card statement, less concerned with the ones in my birth date. It's old fashioned, I know, but I'd like to memorise a phone number or two. Sure, we have Siri, voice control or speed dial, but I'd like to care enough to commit 10 digits to memory in case I have to use a payphone or a land line in an emergency like, say, the end of the world. Old fashioned, but I'm like that sometimes.
I'm going to take better care of my feet. It's only a small thing (well two small things) but they do carry me about the place and the very least I can do in return is make a commitment to their ongoing maintenance. Perhaps in return they'll move quicker, perhaps develop some kind of intuition independent of my other faculties, knowing when to advance forward and when to run away.
And so as not to have them feeling left out I'll endeavour to take better care of my hands. They are, after all, a kind of ambassador, a first point of contact, of courtesy. Mine, blistered and calloused, betray my pass times; wearing the inevitable consequences of palms pulling up on smooth metal bars and fingertips pressing down on steel strings. By taking better care I don't mean avoiding these activities, certainly not. I mean taking better care of where they go. I want to plunge them into more soil, more ocean, use them more frequently to lift little children onto my shoulders. Now I'm not going to go Michael Jackson or anything, but knowing how much is written on my palms, knowing the secrets they have all too frequently too willingly divulged, I might be a little more wary of the situations in which they might find themselves exposed.
What are you going to do in 2012? You could make it your resolution to stop by my place, small child in tow (optional), and I'll whip out my stash of glue and see if I can help you fix something- I'll give you some of my crudely constructed spare time and if you're lucky I'll share a story, in a handshake, a high five, a holy palmer's kiss.
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