I don't make New Year's Resolutions but I do often curl up on New Year's Eve and think about things I'd like to do during the next 12 months. Previous years' wish lists have included taking a boat trip to see seals (tick), visiting a wool festival (tick), visit countries I've not visited before (ongoing); you get the idea. Things that it would be fabulous to do and which I am more likely to do because expressing the desire makes me more likely to take some action, but also things which it won't matter if I can't do them.
This year's list includes the usual thoughts about places to visit, things to do, people to see... but also, in view of my Norfolk upbringing, it includes the determination to "do different". I wasn't sure what I'd "do different", more a case of "follow your nose wherever it goes; unless you don't like the look of the destination in which case turn round and try again".
And I most certainly have been "doing different". I've bought some books by male authors, as I've realised how rarely I choose anything other than women writers. I've been to a karoke evening with some colleagues (and, no I did not sing, but I surprised myself by actually really enjoying the evening). And on Friday I'm off to a dinner party. I've never been to one in my life (I could write the Bumper Book of Reasons and Excuses for Declining Dinner Invitations). I'm terrified (especially as I've never even met the hosts, let alone the other guests; these are all people from Mr CK's world, not mine). Will I be able to make spirited, yet polite, conversation? Dare I sneak some emergency crochet in in my bag? Is it impolite to crochet between courses? (Sadly, I suspect the answer is "yes" and maybe I'd be pushing my "do different" a bit far if I tried to hook a few stitches). I'm also trying to decide which would be better for soothing my nerves beforehand: camomile tea or G&T? Watch this space.
Oh, and watch this, too (see the entry for 21 Jan 2010), and let me know what you think of it (NB my speakers have blown, so I'm not sure what the sound is like: I'm guessing bagpipes and bleating). My "computer chair" where I'm sitting to type this, is almost identical to the one the sour-faced grannies were knitting in!