A couple of weeks ago, I bought a butternut squash planning to roast and cube it as part of a Buddha bowl. A Buddha bowl is basically a pile of quinoa with some vegetables piled atop it, and the entire business model of Dig Inn Seasonal Market. I figured it would be a good lazy meal for dinner tonight — which it was — but I didn’t think about how many dishes I’d need to clean afterward. I also forgot that the tofu needed to be marinated for 2+ hours before it would be ready to grill. Between the time crunch and my lack of desire to take out and later clean my Cuisinart Griddler, Cilantro Lime Grilled Tofu became Cilantro Lime Baked Tofu, which actually worked surprisingly well, in case you ever find yourself wanting to eat something you forgot to marinate ASAP. Also, as is clear from the photo above, I totally forgot about the butternut squash. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
So, I did one new thing every day of 2016. Many of them were along the lines of trying a new sandwich or listening to a new podcast, but I also did a few actually cool things. Among my favorites: doing the Coney Island Polar Bear Dip, running a half marathon, sleeping outside to raise money for homeless youth, taking a trapeze class, going to Kenya, and going vegan for Lent. Regardless of how minor some (many) of my new things were, the overall impact of purposely doing one new thing each day was positive, so I’m doing it again this year. I’m starting by sharing this blog with people to get over the fear of sharing my writing that I’ve developed over the past few years.
My 2016 New Year’s Resolution was to do one new thing every day. Now that we’re at the end of the year, I can say with reasonable certainty that I’m going to succeed. Admittedly, many of these new things have been relatively low-stakes — listening to a new podcast, trying a new restaurant, cooking a new recipe — but I also did a few cool, bigger things like participating in the Coney Island Polar Bear Dip, sleeping outside to raise money for homeless youth, going to Kenya, and running a half marathon.
Since shortly after the election, my friend Arielle has been sending out a daily TinyLetter in which she offers small, actionable things one can do to make the world a little bit better during dark and uncertain times.
As it turns out, Arielle is a much better person than I am. My near-term approach for dealing with this brave new world that not only has such people in it but also elects such people to the highest office in the land is to do as much as possible to make *myself* feel better. Sure, I joined the ACLU on November 9 just like everyone else, but for the most part my coping strategy is less “I volunteer as tribute!” and more “listening to that Fleetwood Mac tribute album from 2012 while mainlining Fromager d’Affinois.” Either I am, as Shakesville’s Melissa McEwan would say, all out of teaspoons, or I’m simply using what few spoons I have left to expedite the delivery of Nutella directly from the jar into my mouth.
I know this holiday season has been a total bummer because it was only today — two days before Christmas — that I started watching holiday movies, something I typically look forward to all year. I’m not talking about films like A Miracle on 34th Street, Home Alone, or A Christmas Story. No, my holiday viewing is restricted to such masterpieces as 12 Dates of Christmas, Snowglobe, and the incomparable Santa Baby 2: Christmas Maybe.
My friend Nicole and I have two key things in common: we both have MBAs, and we love terrible TV movies. So it’s no surprise that we also share a deep affection for terrible TV movies with a business slant. In particular, holiday-themed terrible TV movies with a business slant, or what I call “Business Christmas” movies. I made this Venn diagram to help you understand: