New Year's is overrated. Don't get me wrong, I love any excuse for champagne, sequins and celebratory kisses, but New Year's remains far from my favorite holiday. It's not because of the seemingly arbitrary nature of the celebration -- Halloween sits squarely in my top three based solely on the presence of candy and costumes -- but instead it's the massive amount of pressure riding on celebrating the transition from one year to the next thatseems to spoil New Year's for me.
Resolutions aside, every reputable form of media from Glamour to Vogue highlights what New Year's Eve is supposed to resemble. Sparkly dress and corresponding heels? Check. Champagne-filled party surrounded by festively-attired friends? Check. Significant other on whom to plant the requisite midnight kiss? Check. Glamorous candid photos capturing the effortless fun and perfect level of tipsy-ness without messy-ness to post on Facebook? Check.
With a daunting list like that, how can the celebration itself ever meet its sky-high expectations?
New Year's resolutions signify another overemphasized tradition that dwarfs the significance of resolutions made during the rest of the year. Just like the hype around Homecoming parties overshadows the fact that sometimes Sunday funday in the middle of November turns out to unexpectedly be the best night of the term, the emphasis on New Year's resolutions takes away from the fact that resolutions can and should be made any time of year.
When surrounded by a disproportionate number of type-A peers at Dartmouth, why restrict yourself to setting resolutions once a year? That leaves you with only 78.06 resolutions in your entire lifetime! (Or 80.34 if you emigrate to Canada.) It also exaggerates the repercussions of failing to adhere to your resolution. If you fail to save "x" amount of money in 2009, then it's like you've failed an entire 1/78th of your life. FAILED. That's pretty depressing. According to Wikipedia, each year only 12 percent of people successfully achieve their resolutions. Those are tough odds.
Instead of working to be part of that lucky 12 percent, look for everyday opportunities to make resolutions. Bomb a midterm? Resolve to ace the next one. Wake up in a foreign bedroom -- sans shoes, with phallic symbols permanent-markered on your face -- and miss your 10A? Resolve to take more pictures to jog your memory next time. Can't study on Third Floor Berry because you're winded by the time you hit Jones? Resolve to up the cardio. Self-improvement is always worthwhile, so don't restrict it to once a year.
New Year's resolutions are also unfair to the other months of the year. It's no wonder that so many people resolve to lose weight and save cash. After two weeks of cocktails, holiday cookies and left-over turkey, being bloated should hardly come as a surprise, and the season of gift-giving wrecks havoc on even the thriftiest shopper's pocketbook. If the annual resolution time was conveniently situated after Green Key weekend, wellness and sobriety would be all the rage. After finals, abstaining from all-things Novack and banning any words that rhyme with "Baker" or "Berry" would top many resolvers' lists. Post-DOC trips? Communing with nature would become the biggest extracurricular since pong. The point is that the annual New Year's resolution tradition not only limits the amount of resolving one can fit into his or her lifetime, but also influences the nature of said resolutions.
Avoid the pressure of a New Year's resolution and dedicate your Winter term to more pleasurable pursuits. Whether that means maxing out your time on the slopes or simply mastering the art of staying warm, make sure to enjoy yourself.
For those of you who remain adamantly dedicated to the pursuit of New Year's resolutions, I wish you the best. And good luck to Britney Spears and quitting her nail-biting habit in 2009.
