Pink of Perfection

Sebastian has this superstition about New Year’s: the overall feeling of the holiday portends the year ahead. We thought we were in an unprecedented position to ring in 2007. We had the most exquisite gustatory experience of our lives, we got engaged, hell, we were in Paris. I spent that whole week smiling, and when I wasn’t smiling I was kissing, and when I wasn’t kissing I was eating, and when I wasn’t eating I was walking down little Parisian streets and, well, smiling. I look back at the video we shot there and find myself positively radiant. It was the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.

But then there was the tail end, the part where I was aching with food poisoning and passed out waiting for the bathroom on our flight home and when I came to had a coven of British flight attendants buzzing around me with oxygen masks and clucking over my new ring (that last part I didn’t mind). And then Sebastian became violently ill, and we still had six hours of a trans-Atlantic journey ahead of us. It is not overstatement to say it took every ounce of strength, will, and faith in both of us to convince ourselves we would make it home alive. Needless to say, we were really sick.

And that, in a sense, is really how our year has gone down. There were crazy heights, and some really low lows, all of which would be tedious and cringe-worthy to detail here. Suffice it to say there were hurdles and road blocks, resurfaced demons, empty bank accounts, but thankfully, no more vomiting. I don’t think we could have handled that.

To ring in 2008, we are driving up to a snowy cabin with my best friend, my sister, and my brother-in-law. We have plans to cook, hike, read by the fire, drink a lot of champagne, and have at least one barefoot impromptu dance party (I’ll be spearheading that last item on the agenda).

So what does that mean for the year ahead? It means fewer dizzying heights, true, but it means something else, and something which I am craving: Next year will have a quiet, secure happiness that this year, for all its tumult and excitement, lacked. That means more farmer’s markets and fireplaces, food to be made and friends to come over and eat. I expect in the next year to be spending more time with my friends and family and less time doing just about everything that seems meaningless by comparison. And it also means, I am sure of it, another year with my beau of smiling, kissing, eating and walking, though perhaps over paths of pine needles rather than Parisian cobblestones. And I am so okay with that.

101 Things in 1001 Days

If you haven’t seen this meme yet, I can’t encourage you enough to go check it out. Having a particular penchant for lists, I think it’s brilliant. But I also think that life can slip right by — days turn months and then, whoa, another year gone! — unless you are positively vigilant about assessing what you want and making sure you get your hot little hands on it. Perusing people’s lists is positively inspiring, with items from “fold 1,000 paper cranes” to “bake a challah” to “try tai chi” . Perhaps one of the greatest things about this project, though, is that it reclaims resolutions from the land of self-improvement (though there is still plenty of room for that) and puts it squarely back in the land of fun. Will you go camping? Will you learn to crochet? What will you do?

Happy holidays to all! Here’s wishing your next year is the very pink of perfection!