The last New Year’s resolution I made was to give up dating. I (rather angrily) proclaimed to Clay and Caran on December 31, 2009 that I was done with women; “they’re crazy, dating has become an unpleasant if not dreaded second job, and I’m just done”, is what I believe I said. Never so eloquently, of course.

Nine days later, I met Corrin;  the universe (and my friends) had a hearty laugh at my expense. Since then, I haven’t been much in favor of announcing grandiose plans, thinking I’d be thwarted by someone or something looking for jollies, but my plans for 2012 seem harmless enough to risk writing them down in a semi-public forum.

I have two goals for this year:

ONE: Engage a personal trainer for ten weeks, to help me safely build my body back to something like my pre-anemia state of health.

I’ve been “better” for most of a year but still don’t have anything like my “normal” stamina, strength, or muscle tone, and I refuse to accept that my current fitness level is a new normal. So, I’ve just been paired with Wanda, from the Columbia training program, for a selection of ten sessions over the next four months. She’ll be helping rebuild my core strength, flexibility, posture, and stamina — such that I can go back to dancing and practicing yoga every week without needing to sleep for a day in recovery. Who knows, there may even be a 5K run in my future, if she convinces me that it’s possible.

Our first meeting is scheduled for Saturday, January 21; I’ll let you know how it goes.

TWO: Stop driving myself crazy with goals.

I have a weird tendency — probably born of reading too many novels of sacrifice and self-flagellation as part of my moral education — to turn an odd thought or passing fancy into a grandiose plan that, once conceived, must be executed in precise fashion. This drives me — and everyone around me! — stark raving mad.

My intention in 2012 is to develop a vocabulary that lets me discuss ideas as possibilities and dreams — to discuss them without then running off to develop game plans and project schedules and a five-tier plan of review and quality assurance that I’m then convinced must be brought to life. For example, there are some project-style thoughts that have crossed my mind this way, like “wouldn’t it be lovely to host a monthly podcast?” and “what if I committed to knitting a different major project each season, and mapped my progress according to solstice/equinox dates?” and “I should really force myself to stick to a schedule and curriculum for this learning to take photographs business.” I’d like to chatter away about these thoughts (and others that haven’t arisen yet) as a way of exploring them, without forcing a commitment that will only serve to make me miserable.

That isn’t to say that I don’t have a solid list of things to do this year…

• Write 100 Blog Posts (plus Corrin’s kitten tales), including some more formal “essay” style pieces of writing that are knocking around in my head
• FINALLY knit a pair of socks for myself
• Consciously learn enough about photography to take quality pictures during our trip to Budapest
• Read 12 new-to-me works of award-caliber literary fiction this year, and log my thoughts (if not a full review) of each on Goodreads.

But that’s a list of concrete objectives, not one of challenging behavior-changing resolutions. Resolutions should be a little scary. Task lists should be achievable. I think each of my lists match up, so here’s to success!