How Not to Resolve – Or Lent vs New Year (Lent 3 – New Year 2)

Today, in case it passed you by, is the first day of Lent. Otherwise known in the trade as Ash Wednesday. It’s all terribly like New Year except without the parties. And painful shoes. And the snogging inebriated friends. The friends. Not me. I didn’t dare get drunk this last New Years – the danger of my taking someone’s husband home would have been too great.

Today is the first day of Lent. It’s all terribly like New Year because of all that resolution stuff. Lent is the soft version of New Year. It only lasts 40 days as opposed to 365 days, or, in the case of New Year’s resolutions, 10 days.

This year it is particularly handy for those, like myself, who are given to resolution. Because just as one fails the New Year ones – Lo! Where should we find ourselves but bang up against the next big resolution calendar event. Convenient eh?

So here are my resolutions –

Stop putting my coat in the fridge by mistake.
Stop putting my boots in the freezer, whether by mistake or on purpose.
Remember where I am going whilst traversing roundabouts.
Remember that roundabouts are for going around rather than traversing.
Put all my underwear in alphabetical order.
Put all my outerwear in numerical order (except for those items already in the freezer)
Stop thinking about sex.
Stop thinking about love.
Stop thinking.
Put everything in the house that is not actually attached to a wall, screwed to the floor or over ten foot tall into Anthea-esque baskets.
Weave a basket sufficiently large to put the car in.
Find the car.


So, for 40 days and 40 nights I must do the above. It’s not going to be easy. Obviously. Especially all that basket stuff.

But the sheer anticipatory joy of Easter Sunday will keep me going. For verily on that day I will once more be able to freeze coats, make much disorder, bump crazily across roundabouts, lose the car and think about sex. I might give the last one a miss.

Oh fuck, I’ve broken that one already. Never mind there’s always baskets.

How Not to New Year

It was New Year last night. Or rather it is New Year. And it will probably continue to be New Year until the year is deemed to be in some state of toddlerhood. February I think.

Although the whole New Year thing is some strange construct constructed by some strange bods (Roman I suspect) it does have a preponderance to induce a certain amount of perpondering on topics such as the previous year, last year and what effect last 365 days has had on one’s life.

A quick glance reveals that 2007 was shit. However an in depth and scientific analysis reveals otherwise. Science is a great comfort.

This is what happened:

I thought I should write a New Year blog post. Since it was New Year. And my fans were missing me. Because I had run out of words. Divorce does that to people. There are billions of divorced people who have been struck dumb by the process but never mention it.

I thought I should write a New Year blog post. You know, one of those ‘reviews of the year’ one gets so much on television. Being short of celebrities I thought I might simply look back to the beginning of the blog (which is of course now a celebrity itself).

I did that. You can do that yourself but I will save you the bother by telling you that it was a list of things I should do before I’m 50. Which is in a few years. Or possibly in a few years more than that if you believe my spin-doctors. Or me.

This was list:

Do a press-up without collapsing in an undignified heap -
Which I can now do! The heap is entirely dignified.

Bake a cake without forgetting it’s in the oven and burning it -
Which I can now do (or at least I haven’t burnt a single cake this year)(mostly because I’ve bought them from the Coop)

Play the chord of F (F is for fuck-this-is-a-difficult-chord) - This hasn’t quite been so successful as now I can’t even remember how to open the guitar case.

‘The Head of the Cow’ (obscure yoga pose) - Which I can now do. HA! (that’s the involuntary noise that occurs during this pose)

Get married - Well, I did the next best thing – got divorced.

Learn to Salsa Dance - Again, the next best thing – broke my foot.

Drive all the way around Coryton roundabout without stopping for a red light -
Done. Stopped by police. But done.

Finish my novel - Done! It’s a pile of unreadable shit but it has sufficient words to qualify as a novel.

Walk into a room and remember why I’m there - since I now hobble into rooms I consider this ambition achieved.

Understand what a comma splice is – Yes, I, think, so.

Be a famous and rich novelist - Too ambitious so am striking this from list.

Empathise with slugs – No problem. Another totally positive aspect of divorce.

Make love in a swimming pool/lake/body of water that isn’t the bath - I have now amended this to just ‘make love’

Ski - now amended to ‘watch tv’

Like olives – now amended to ‘like’

Remember where I have put the car keys – Yes. Safe, secure and locked in the car.

Write a blog – Yes. I think so. Mostly. Aside from when I didn’t.


So, after a careful count of 2007 successes and failures the score is:
Successes – Mostly.
Failures – Hardly any.

Obviously I now hope that 2008 will be filled with just as many outstanding successes.

Coming soon – A new list of 50 things to do before I’m 50.
Which will include learning how to count to 50.

Happy New Year