Yesterday I brought you a selection of lightweight, ready-made New Year resolutions for you to choose from. For those who found nothing quite to suit them in yesterday's list, here is a further selection.
I will turn over the page of every calendar in the house every month, unlike in 2004, when the calendar in the bathroom was still at March, because March's picture was prettier.
This year, I will start my Christmas shopping in September, if only to see what it feels like.
I will not have an affair with Kimberly Fortier.
I will not have an affair with anyone from The Spectator.
If a little card falls out of The Spectator saying "An Invitation from Boris Johnson", I will not even dare to read it
In the year 2005 I will not say anything wounding about Liverpool or the Welsh nation, because they are both so bloody sensitive and take offence so easily - no, I didn't meant that, oh God, sorry, sorry, sorry!
In my love life, I will remember the wisdom of the old adage: "Many a man who has fallen in love with a pretty face has made the mistake of marrying the whole girl".
In 2005 I will master at least one gadget which baffled me in 2004.
I resolve to remember that the first drink of the evening is always the nicest drink of the evening, and try to cut out all the others.
I promise to sue McDonald's Restaurants, on the grounds that whatever else those places where they dispense conveyor belt food are, they are not restaurants, as a restaurant involves having a chef who purchases ingredients and thinks of interesting things to do with them, and therefore calling a McDonald's a "restaurant" debases the language.
On the other hand, I also promise not to get on my normal hobby horses, like about McDonald's and other awful places.
I will choose someone of whom, if they died in 2005, I would say: "If only I had talked to them properly before they died!" and then go and talk to them.
I will adopt an outrageous and unlikely artistic pose, like taking Tracey Emin seriously.
I will avoid reading all newspaper or magazine articles in the New Year with titles like "The Twenty Best New Talents in Britain" or "The Stars of the Future, Here Today" or "Twenty Hot New Designers" or "Is One of These the New Martin Amis?"
I will discreetly let it be known that I have been offered (and turned down) an honour or title.
I will vote in the election.
I will not gloat over the disarray in the Tory party.
I will think of something I often regret giving up, such as playing the piano, or reading science fiction, or making my own bread, and then take it up again.
I will more often try to end arguments with my partner by suddenly saying: "You're absolutely right! What a fool I've been! You were right all along! God, how could I have been so pig-headed", even if it does lead to more arguments and accusations of sarcasm and facetiousness.
I will ask my partner what he or she thinks is my most annoying habit, and seriously get to work on improving or eradicating it, and if he or she says something like, "Your most annoying habit? I don't know where to start!", I shall seriously think about re-evaluating my relationship.Reuse content