New Year, New Me?

January is finally coming to a close. What a decade it has been. I mean, what a month it has been. It is that time of year when we continue paying for gym memberships we will no longer use. Dry January is easing its way into a soused February. You may have discovered that eating healthy does have its benefits. However, it does not seem to soothe the soul like a strawberry shake can after hearing Eric Parnas say for the billionth time, "We Have Some Terrible Breaking News" Before you walk away from this month feeling like Dan Akroyd in "Trading Places" after the dog takes a wiz on his feet, hear me out.

The New Year, New Me declaration: Is it the grandest form of optimism? Or is it a catalyst for unavoidable self-loathing? Maybe it is a dash and sprinkle of both? I published a blog about six months ago titled "New Year, New Me?" The first attempt at this blog read like an infomercial for mental wellness. I am not that formal by nature. My writing seems to flow more freely if I imagine myself sitting down, drinking coffee, and having a conversation with you. So, here we go: grab your coffee or beverage of choice, some snacks, and get comfy. It is story time.

It is January 31st, and for the third year running, my mom has just declared that she is going to quit smoking. The year was 1988. About 80% of the population was attempting to kick the habit. My sister and I had already witnessed my mother crash and burn on this one a couple of times prior. We found it best not to jump on this current bandwagon of hope. My mom had other plans for us. She was all about getting the cheerleading squad on board for this attempt. That cheerleading squad was us.

She excitedly let us know that this was it; this was happening. She had us bear witness as she broke all of her cigarettes in half. Then, with the flair of a seasoned performer, she dumped the shattered remnants of those Marlboro coffin nails into the trash. We all bid a final farewell to the smoky sticks that were never to be puffed upon again. It was a proper theatre moment.

She was planning her new life as a non-smoker, which was her pretty much doing all the things she usually did, minus the twenty-some smoke breaks that were factored in between tasks. Despite our better judgment, my mother had coaxed my sister and me into participating in the madness just one more time. On New Year's Day, we asked my mom if she could drop us off at the mall. Inside the mall was a cool novelty gift shop called EarthCraft. It was the prequel to Spencer's. The store was filled with every 80's nostalgic item you could possibly think of. 

Amidst the sea of keychains featuring every common name imaginable ( my name never included) and the dazzling array of rainbow velcro wallets, we stumbled upon a teeny-tiny message in a bottle. But wait, this was not your average message in a bottle. This bottle housed a cigarette with a fortune cookie-sized scroll that bore the wise words: "Break Only In Case of Emergency." 

This gift was pure genius. It was also a relatively easy way for kids to get their hands on some cigarettes. My sister and I couldn't wait to get home and give this to my mom. We wanted to show her our support and how proud we were of her.

About a week later,  I decided to visit my mother's closet. I thought it might be lonely. I was also searching for the perfect outfit to wear to the movies that night. I was going for a Madonna, "Lucky Star" kind of vibe. After having no luck in her closet, I headed to her dresser. As I was sifting through her clothes, I stumbled upon a broken piece of glass. There it was—a tiny shattered bottle. I then found the miniature scroll, but no cigarette was in sight. I ran to my sister with the broken remains. They say, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Try two kids who had just spent their allowance on hope in a bottle.

We immediately confronted my mother when she came home from work. I remember the two of us being extremely upset that she had cracked open that bottle. We silently thought of all the different ways our money may have been spent differently, like on a mountain of candy, twenty games of Ms. Pac-Man, or a small island. She apologized to us, but unfortunately, her apology did not land the way she had hoped. We were no longer entertaining the delulu. When that did not work, she explained that life goes on and that we basically needed to as well.

When she realized that fixing this mess wasn't showing up on her evening bingo card, she did what any parent would do in such a predicament. She lit up a cigarette. My sister and I exchanged glances and then looked at her with the kind of wonder and confusion usually reserved for moments like the first time we watched "Blue Velvet."There was silence, which was only accompanied by some light coughing from the cigarette smoke. From that day forward, my mother decided that her New Year's resolutions were best kept to herself. No one really came out ahead in this situation except maybe my mom. She scored a free cig.

This event officially set the tone for my feelings toward New Year's resolutions going forward. However, despite that, I would spend the next few decades partaking in this ridiculous tradition. In all fairness to my mom, I, too, had many "I am quitting smoking" resolutions that did not work out back in the day. Yes, I used to smoke. I was a teenager in the 80's and 90's. The likelihood of not becoming a smoker for at least a stitch in time was improbable for Gen Xers. We thought smoking was cool. We thought it made us look cool, like Winona Ryder and Johnny Depp, but I digress. 

Now, for those of you who have made it this far. You might ask yourself, "What the hell is she talking about? I would then reply by saying this: if eating a cookie feels like a warm hug from an old friend, then my suggestion to you is that you eat the damn cookie. While you are at it, grab another cookie, take a scoop of Ben & Jerry's ice cream, and press that in between them. No Regrets!

When you feel ready to do whatever it is, you feel driven to do. It will happen. For now, embrace your inner Bridget Jones because we all have one. You are not alone. Let February be the month we learn to pause and take deep breaths. Let's work on creating balance within ourselves. Because, as a collective, that is going to be our superpower.

Tonight, I leave you with this:

"Keep your eye on the doughnut, not on the hole."- David Lynch