Much Ado About Nothing

New Year’s resolutions are to urbane basketcases as myths were to head-scratching Romans, long before science came along to answer their questions.

In other words, as each New Year rolls in, the resolutions we cough up give us some sense of security and doe-eyed optimism and tah-dah — we become better people.

Of course, for as long as I can remember, none of the resolutions I came up with even lasted a week. They say you should never reveal your resolutions to anyone or you’ll end up breaking them. So when Jan. 1 comes along and you’re smoking your first cigarette for the year when you promised you wouldn’t, you can always save face by saying you told someone. I came to know about this so-called miracle of dramatic change, a promise of the attainable good life, when as a child, I was told by my mom to fill my pockets with coins on New Year’s Eve so that I’ll be rich the coming year. This alternates with doing stretches (this is pre-yoga mania) so that I’ll be tall the coming year. One year after discovering the supermodels, I put coins in my pockets and stretched. I figured this is what Cindy had to do, perhaps. Not really, as time has proven.

Like Santa, the tooth fairy, Cupid’s arrow and the aphrodisiac powers of the love potion I bought in Quiapo years ago, New Year’s resolutions have no magical elements after all. This is what I realized. Unlike the aforementioned, they do exist, although in general, they have the life span of a fly.

Resolutions are basically self-serving in nature. No matter how altruistic your resolutions may be (e.g. you resolve to vote, but the elections are in year 2004), it all boils down to making you feel better about yourself. Nothing wrong with that, nothing to be ashamed of. It also reflects all the scandales of the past year. For example, after being whipped all over town, you decided to be more outspoken and assertive in 2002. But you end up being a total bitch, and now you scare yourself. Resolution for 2003 is to adopt a more timid and calm approach in dealing with things (i.e. going back to square one).

Priorities highlight major devastations of the year. To lose weight means you moved up a dress size due to the constant mistake of never saying non-fat when ordering lattés. To be more organized means you have again called your boyfriend by your ex-boyfriend’s name during lunch. To be more hardworking means you have seen more pink slips than your incoming files at work during the past year. I leave you with the liberty of making up more of your own.

Very well, so resolutions put that silver lining on those jaw-dropping, flush-inducing boo-boos that have plagued your life and threatened your safety in the not-so-distant past. It gives you a chance to exercise the delight and whimsy that all humans want to indulge in — that you are the master of your domain (which is a fantasy). Resolutions seemingly give you that destiny-steering wheel, especially in such troubled times, that more often than not force you to take a seat and just stare at the unbelievably pathetic surroundings. It gives you a bit of hope, to try to be courageous and to feel better about the coming year even if you have been seeing double after doing the rounds of the party season.

I am still optimistic despite the trying and dismal era that we are in the midst of. So I made a few of my own resolutions. All, of course, are self-serving and useless to the rest of the human race. This is a cheap thrill; a luxury for the self-absorbed:

1) Will lose 10 more pounds (for obvious reasons and have something to talk about with others when small talk becomes too tiny to grasp).

2)Will stop buying black clothes and accessories (will study prospects in color wheel).

3) Will limit profanities to a bare minimum (only to those whose names and personas are synonymous to such profanities).

4) Will ditch television (drains the mind faster that a double martini).

5) Will watch my words and ask questions and never assume (for obvious reasons, I can’t claim "I’m still studying" anymore).

6) Will enhance confidence (everyone needs a booster shot).

7) Will be a good partner to boyfriend and pay attention to what he fancies (no more dragging him to trips to the salon on his birthday).

8) Will retouch roots at the 1/2 inch mark and put concealer on eye bags (it is that scary...another spin on The Ring).

9) Will organize closet according to color and occasion (my tank top and jeans are dying and so am I).

10) Will read a real book (not any Bridget Jones’ cousin type of book) at least once a month (and reward myself with a tabloid).

11) Will use Palm Pilot to get life on track and relieve it from its sole purpose of being a plasma sutra player (but of course still keep program).

12) Will text, call and e-mail back anyone (these days you’ve really got to treasure those who even bother).

13) Will quit smoking (who am I kidding this is the "no smoking’s" seventh run in my resolution list but it feels good to say it anyway).

So isn’t this fun...sending myself to some Gattaca, where I’m perfect and I’ve no reason to endure another panic attack.

So cheers and lets look forward to a happy New Year...and if I start getting bored with the good new me, I can always revert to my old incredibly flawed self. Then I can continue the year by complaining and look forward to making another list of resolutions to break.