New Year, New You?

Christmas has gone, and with it; the excuse to eat enough food to be included in a silent, slow motion visual for a BBC news report on the dangers of obesity.  But when we thought we’d got rid of that overweight bald man climbing down the chimney, who steals food and has a slightly odd obsession with children; we still have Gary Glitter, Jimmy Savile and that bloke from The Lost Prophets.  So life goes on.  And with the end of Christmas comes the start of a new year.

If 2012 has taught us anything, it’s that nothing screams British Olympic spirit more than the Industrial Revolution in the form of interpretive dance, Mormons wear special underwear, the UCL e-mail thread can be easily hacked and, consequently, Malcom Grant apparently now has an account with ‘Hindu Hunnies’.  So what’s to come in 2013?  What wonders await us?

Undoubtedly, this coming year will bring the strongest reaction to a couple’s fertility since the Immaculate Conception.  And while the Queen bites her lip as William and Kate discuss baby names and settle on ‘Peach Febreeze Windsor’, 2013 will see the nation’s greatest cover up to date: when we peer into the royal cot to find a set of teeth and a receding hairline, and proclaim it to be the most beautiful creature to ever grace this mortal soil.  Let’s just hope the child inherits Pippa’s bottom and Kate’s everything else.

Now, as a humanities student, I can’t really do anything that requires much more than counting on my fingers, so don’t expect any graphs plotting the fluctuations of 2013’s economy.  However, do prepare yourself for some gritty journalism in the form of trivial comments on your most common New Year’s Resolutions to help clear the murky waters of your 2013:

This is what the Roxy’s bar looks like. Who knew?

Drink less: Well you can kiss Roxy and Moonies goodbye, which, for most on a budget, make up at least 90% of the average Uni social life.  And what stories will you have to tell your children?  Like that time you stumbled back from the Roxy and spent the night on Primrose Hill with that banker you found in Subway.

Snack less: Personally it’s tough to distinguish between boredom and hunger.  Since boredom and work go hand in hand, the librarian has come to learn that if a book is returned without traces of chocolate digestives and a soy sauce/noodle combo (obviously not to be consumed in the library) then it hasn’t been a productive day.  Either I’m to become a lady of leisure, or a rather hefty academic with a large share in McVities.

Be kinder to others: An admirable, unselfish resolution that is much harder than it looks.  Are you just meant to sit tight when you discover that your housemate brought a girl back from Moonies, only to spend the whole night playing Articulate?  It just can’t be done.

Go out less: Now this is achievable.  I’ve recently come across a drinking game that’s up there with, ‘Drink that because we’re leaving in 5 minutes’ and ‘Sorry, we don’t have any mixer left’.  It goes by the name of ‘Hermit’.  Gather 3 times the amount of alcohol you’re comfortable with, isolate yourself from society and sit alone in a locked room until you’ve finished it.  If that sounds too antisocial for your liking, sit in front of a mirror.  This game kills two birds with one stone – saves dolla and, since there’s no one else around, there’s absolutely no chance of breaking resolution number 3.

Read the London Tab regularly: Sounds about right.

Maybe in 2013, Samantha Brick will share with us more tricks of the trophy wife trade, or perhaps we’ll manage to employ a more reliable ancient civilisation to predict the date of our destruction.  But either way, with whatever resolutions you’ve chosen to guide you into the New Year, hopefully you’ll begin your 2013 slightly more than successfully than the U.S. and that pesky Fiscal Cliff.  And my advice for the remaining 351 days?  Scrap the resolutions and lower your expectations to avoid any disappointment.