ABOUT WOMEN
What, me worry? Dumping my baggage and seizing the day

By Catherine E. Toth
Advertiser Staff Writer

I've always believed that whatever you do on New Year's Day, you'll do for the rest of the year.

But the eve, well, that was the free day. You could do anything on New Year's Eve. It didn't count.

So I postponed laundry and downed a bowl of chocolate ice cream, completely guilt-free.

New Year's Day is like the reset button of your life. Whatever you did last year is, well, last year. We can all move on.

That horrible date that involved two guys — you only agreed to go out with one — who showed up drunk and without a car. That guy you shouldn't have given your cell number to. That night you danced on the bar at Ocean's — or so you heard.

All that, gone. Your sins wiped cleaned with the last blast of firecrackers on New Year's Eve.

It's time to start over, re-invent yourself, promise to do everything differently, remembering every time you've uttered, screamed or slurred the words "Never again."

No more abusing MasterCard. No more belated birthdays. No more KFC.

New Year's seems to dig up the worst moments of our year: The time you binged on Twinkies and Pop Tarts after an emotional break-up (more emotional because you were supposed to break up with him first). The time you dropped $475 on membership, $150 on cute outfits and $120 on new shoes for a gym you still haven't seen the inside of. Or the time you promised a friend you'd help her move, teach her to surf and take her out for her birthday, oh, about eight months ago.

Pretty depressing.

But it shouldn't be that way.

Sure, we've made mistakes. We all have done things we wish we could take back (especially the ones done under the influence). But we can't go back. We can only live and learn.

Chances are you're probably the only one who remembers all the horrifying, embarrassing things you did last year. (Unless, of course, they've become legendary and you should feel particularly proud of yourself.) I'm sure your mom has forgotten about the dent in her Honda and the puke in your girlfriend's hair has long been rinsed and conditioned out.

The focus of New Year's should really be on what we've accomplished this year, not what we'll never do again.

I mastered catching one-foot waves. I wrote eight songs on my guitar. And I met a guy who would like me even if I couldn't do those things.

So instead of beating myself up, I decided to do everything that makes me happy on New Year's, hoping it would set the tone for the rest of 2003.

I ate breakfast with the 'rents, surfed all afternoon and watched DVDs with the guy at night.

It wasn't a perfect day — I woke up late, got hit in the back by a rental surfboard and fell asleep mid-DVD — but it was complete.

A week into the new year and I realize it didn't matter what I did on Jan. 1. Or what I did on May 18, 2002, or Dec. 10, 1985.

Yesterday is done. Tomorrow is later. But today, that's something I can do.

And I can worry about it next year.

Reach Catherine E. Toth at 535-8103 or ctoth@honoluluadvertiser.com.