Grendel’s Kitchen

I’m working on the list. I’ve always insisted that “I don’t do New Years Resolutions” for many lofty reasons, which were less principled than I let myself think — most likely I just never wanted the stress and heightened potential for disappointing someone (even if that was only me).Going into this, I knew mine would be somewhat selfish and petty in the scheme of things — I’m no Angelina Jolie or Bono — but I find myself wallowing in self-help rather than saving the world far more than I expected:

1. Fight my chronic onychophagia without resorting to aversion therapy
2. Send New Years cards
3. Exercise systematically
4. Reread everything Thomas Pynchon has written — admittedly, I’ve never finished Mason & Dixon, but we know “the horn is truth”
5. Learn to speak rudimentary Mandarin
6. Complete family geneology research — especially after finding an actual, real-life Jane Eyre as an early 17th Century American ancestor — which is perfect: I can’t wait for my little daughter-to-be to show up for her scholarship from the Dames of the 17th Century Society (having already found that Daughters of the Confederacy have those stupid blood descendant requirements and won’t be likely to hand off that University of Virginia scholarship to my little one from China).
7. Stop drinking — despite the fact that I’ve whittled it down to a couple of glasses of wine a month, a bit of a Christmas Holiday (it is war, you know) bender last week convinced me that I really ought to eliminate this vice altogether
8. Journey through Wine Spectator’s 2005 Top 100 list
9. … and so much more to come

Ok, there’s my dilemma. I haven’t even scratched the surface and I’ve found conflicting resolutions. What a way to start the year: to drink or not to drink? Ay, there’s the rub. It comes down to selfish, petty bargaining around something that doesn’t matter at all, in a world where there’s so much more at stake.