Stuff Boston

I'VE NEVER been a big New Year's resolution kind of guy. I can't remember the last time I resolved to stop doing anything on the first day of the year. (Except in 2002 when, face down in a hotel toilet, I declared I would never, ever drink Sambuca again. Not exactly a soul-searching moment of self-improvement, but I suppose it was a resolution nonetheless.) Don't get me wrong: I don't consider myself perfect. As you're about to learn, I have more than my share of bad habits. To me, it just seems cliché to give one up at the start of a new year. (Not to mention the fact that I need most of my vices intact to ensure a properly celebrated holiday, followed by a full recovery the next day.)

So when my editor asked me to write a first-person piece about this year's resolutions, I had to give it some serious thought. Am I willing and ready to share my inadequacies with the entire city of Boston? Is there something I truly need to give up? And most importantly, will I actually be able to do it? The thing is, being good isn't always easy, but being bad always is. I ask you to keep that in mind as I air my dirty laundry on a clothesline stretched clear across the city. Some of the stains have set more than others, but let's see if we can't clean things up a bit.

Potential New Year's resolution #1: change my eating habits
I've never been a good eater. For as long as I can remember, I've wrestled with nutrition. As a kid, I somehow managed to sustain myself on a diet of hot dogs and Cap'n Crunch, a meal plan that clearly explains my doughy adolescent physique. College was no better. I can probably count on one hand the number of salads I ate during my university years. (Hell, hack off three of my fingers and I'm fairly sure I could still get an accurate count.) So now I'm an adult. I've expanded my palate, right? Yes. With a few exceptions, I've learned to appreciate most foods. (I will say, however, that I still don't get sushi. I've tried to like it - several times, in fact. But when it comes to eating raw fish, I'm like a failed female porn star: I just can't seem to get my gag reflex under control.) But just because I like healthy food doesn't mean I eat it. Aversions have given way to laziness, and lately I find myself with the diet of a hungover frat boy. For example, I wish I could tell you I didn't stop at McDonald's yesterday for a late-night assault, but I can't. Let's put "eating habits" in the running.

Potential New Year's resolution #2: reduce caffeine intake
It's noon. So far today I've consumed a large Starbucks iced coffee (with an extra shot), and I'm halfway through a can of Red Bull that'll surely be empty by the time this paragraph is written. I'm so damn jacked up right now that I can hardly type. Clenched jaw and twitching aside, I really love caffeine. It's an acceptable social pastime, an effective yet legal stimulant, and with my eating habits (see above), an important natural laxative. Sorry, folks: this one's here to stay.

Potential New Year's resolution #3: get organized
I'm about as organized as a flea market. I manage most things in my life using an intricate yet totally useless pile system. I have two piles of bills: paid and unpaid. I have two piles of clothes: clean and dirty. I even have two piles for miscellaneous stuff: shit I'm scared to throw out and shit I probably should throw out but am too disorganized to actually do so. Over the years, I've tried to get a grip on this problem. My efforts have included purchasing a filing cabinet, adopting several daily planners that I used for a sum total of three weeks, and keeping an Outlook calendar that now contains entirely unhelpful entries like "meeting" and "event." I could certainly use some work in this area, but I just don't think I'm wired to be organized. (Even though I'm a self-proclaimed "ass man," I can't stand being anal.) Can I let you in on a secret? I haven't balanced my checkbook in more than five years. See, I'm useless. Moving on.

Potential New Year's resolution #4: quit smoking
I just turned 38 years old and I started smoking a little over a year ago. Yeah, I know: brilliant. When I was selecting this most recent vice, I briefly considered other intelligent pastimes, like catching stray bullets and sparring with pit bulls, but neither provided me with that lovely ashtray stench I'd apparently been craving. My smoking, originally taken up to help me through a difficult time in my life, has now become my embarrassing go-to stress reliever. Ahh, the calming purr of a well-blackened lung: pure bliss. This little problem is now firmly in the lead.

Potential New Year's resolution #5: stop drinking
I've never had a problem with drinking. Hey, wait a minute. Saying that kind of makes me sound like I do have a problem with drinking, doesn't it? But I don't, do I? I suspect I'm like most of you: out a few nights a week, plus a random bottle of wine or two at home. Could I drink less? Sure. We all could, but I don't consider it a problem. (Damn, there I go again.) The only time I ever do consider it an issue is when I'm filling out a questionnaire at the doctor's office. (You know, when they give you a range of "drinks per week" and, if you answer honestly, you find yourself well off the chart.) To be honest, I'm too much of a pussy to be a drunk. I don't posses the grit, determination, or eclectic taste needed for the project. My drink of choice is a vodka-cranberry, otherwise known as a Cape Codder. What respectable drunk would have that as their default libation? Next.

Potential New Year's resolution #6: give up complicated younger women
They like me. Unfortunately, I tend to like them back. I seem to have this in control for now, but just to be safe, let's re-examine this in '09, mm-kay?

Potential New Year's resolution #7: manage my money
I like to make it and I like to spend it. I just don't think I'm as good at the former as I am the latter. The result: I'm not as good as I should be with money. (Oh, like that's a shock. I've already admitted to five years of screwed-up checkbooks; need I say more?) I tend to spend money emotionally - which, the last time I checked, was not one of Suze Orman's personal-finance recommendations. I just like to buy things that make me happy. And I really like to buy things that make other people happy. Now, women, especially you younger, complicated ladies, don't go getting any ideas. Remember, I work for Stuff@night, not Esquire. I'd go into specifics, but I suppose the illusion of having money is nearly as good as actually having it. So I'll just shut my mouth and move on.

So let's review. We've determined that I'm a cigarette-smoking, over-caffeinated, disorganized poor eater who may or may not have a drinking problem and likes to spend money recklessly on complicated young women. Is it just me, or does it sound as if I'm a bad knit cap and Irish brogue away from being Colin Farrell?

All kidding aside, I really like the person I am (aforementioned faults included). Maybe I'm wrong, but I think bad habits and vices are the good stuff - the things that make ordinary people interesting. That said, I can't exactly air out a stinking pile of laundry and not do something about it. So for my New Year's resolution, I've decided I'm going to quit smoking. If you see me huddled outside a bar with a cigarette in my hand, ask me to put it out. Bring me back inside, buy me a Cape Codder, or maybe introduce me to your complicated younger sister. Whatever you do, just remind me that I have a promise to keep.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go. I've prepared a bowl of Cap'n Crunch for dinner and it's starting to get soggy.

Happy New Year. @

[Illustration by Kevin Banks]