2008 Resolutions

New Years is a complicated time for Japanese folks, all wrapped up in mystique and formality and tradition -- most of which I tend to ignore, seeing as how I'm really a giant banana: Asian on the outside, white on the inside. Mom made osechi ryori, the Japanese New Year's meal, for Christmas instead. Since none of us were going to be there for the actual new year celebration, it seemed like a good idea until she actually started cooking -- two days in advance. Normally it takes three days to cook a decent osechi ryori spread, but we were going minimalist for the occasion: only 10 dishes instead of the more usual, oh, I don't know. 40? It's a quasi-spiritual thing, in the way where Easter ham and boiled eggs dipped in food dye are spiritual things, which is to say not at all.

It is, however, very pretty.

We spent our New Year huddled together on the sofa. California, as I mentioned before, is cold right now. Our house is several degrees colder still, and the lower level is absolutely unlivable, while the middle level, where kitchen, living room, and assorted entertainment are situated, is at least survivable if not entirely comfortable. It's a cultural tradition to make mochi at this time of year, and so that's what we did. Pounds and pounds of sweet rice went into our little mochi maker, and pounds and pounds of mochi came out. Much of it ended up in our stomachs, more than was strictly advisable, but there was enough left to make gifting a definite possibility, not to mention freezing for future use.

Insofar as traditions go, mochi-making is one of the more charming ones that being Japanese has gifted me with, and the Guy is not noticeably reluctant to participate. In between soaking and steaming and pounding, he surfed the web for mochi trivia, surfacing occasionally to share tidbits.

"Did you know people die from eating this?" he asked. "Every year, Japanese news media reports on how many mochi-related deaths there were."

I suspect he got that information from Wikipedia, which I see is looking for a citation on that particular piece of information. I could ask my mother for verification, but I don't think 'Mom' is an acceptable reference, even at the best of times. After all, she thinks that moles cause earthquakes.

Admittedly, I haven't been able to prove her wrong.

I realize that it is now the second day of the new year, but I've actually bothered to come up with resolutions this year. Not creative ones, to be honest, but it's rare enough that I decide to engage on any campaign of self-improvement that I think it deserves mention.

I'm not good at resolutions. It helps, I think, to have some semblance of long-term memory when committing to something like this; mine is vestigial at best, and woefully underdeveloped. I fully expect to have forgotten all about this by the 5th, or maybe even (optimism aside) the 6th of January.

1. Don't procrastinate. As much.

   This is obviously already a failure, and yet. The truth is that I'm not a big procrastinator in the professional sense. Not that there is such a thing as a professional procrastinator -- is there? If anyone knows differently, please drop me a line. I'm always up for another career change -- but rather, procrastinating in my professional life: not something I do. I continue to have a more or less Japanese work ethic, some days more, some days less.

   In my personal life, procrastination is my religion. It drives the Guy wild, and has stung me in the ass more than once. You'd think I'd learn, but old dogs, new tricks -- and the two minutes it would take me to finish something in the here and now is somehow never counterbalanced by the thought of the two hours it will take me to deal with the mess if I don't, later. The cost-benefit calculations would be far more useful if I actually conceived of the future; as it is, I punt along from moment to moment, and suddenly find that the electricity has been shut off because I never bothered to pay my bill.

   For the record, the Guy is taking care of all utilities now.

2. Finish unpacking.

   See above. I suppose if the one is solved, the other automatically follows. It took us almost 5 years to finish unpacking in the tenement, and the new house bids fair to remain in boxes until 2020. At this rate -- and I should add to my list, "get a housekeeper," because the sheer shame of having someone see just how poor my personal housekeeping and unpacking skills are should be enough to motivate me.

   Should. Except I have a feeling that I might be too banana to care.

3. Learn a new skill.

   I don't know what this will be, yet. I have a few months to think about it, and an entire year to pick something up. Jazz mentioned Toastmasters to me a while back, and that might be something to consider. My love of my own voice notwithstanding, you can rarely go amiss with working on your personal presentation skills.

   Then again, there's a sign language class near my workplace, and a deaf engineer two cubes down. Decisions, decisions....

4. Exercise more and practice more.

   AT LEAST 30 minutes a day of either piano or exercise: the two aren't complementary, but they are both things that I've been meaning to do more of, and 30 minutes is a start, if not necessarily sufficient unto themselves. At the end of 2006, I was doing fairly strenuous cardio at least 4 times a week, and in the best shape I've ever been. At the end of 2007, I'm ... devolving to several million years before opposable thumbs and air-breathing. "Slug-like" would be the best way to describe me now.

   I like being fit. I like being a pianist. It would be good to get back to both, even if it's inch by inch.

5. Create something.

   Self-explanatory, without being specific. Starting things, I'm good at. Finishing things, I'm not. This will be the year I finish things, which brings us back to item 1. Well, from one trunk, all branches grow.

And there we go. Vague, amorphous, irresolute resolutions -- but they're a start. Maybe I'll check-point in June, just to see where I stand.

Unless, you know. I forget.