I have a bit of a laissez-faire attitude. Some people refer to it as laid back, others as lazy. It’s probably a bit of both.

We had a party on Sunday which required peeling a number of vegetables. I remembered previous problems with the garbage disposal caused by trying to grind too many at once, so after each kind of veggie, I ran the disposal. I did not send stalks down the drain. Just peelings.

Unfortunately, the garbage disposal must have been feeling full, because it chose not to digest my peelings. So somewhere between the sewer and my sink, there is a clog of carrot, potato, and beet shavings.

Annoying? Yes. Life jeopardizing? No.

But, of course, because this happened just before a dinner party, there are way more dishes than normal piled up in the kitchen waiting to be washed. All our mixing bowls. Two of the three frying pans. Most of our spatulas.

This has led to a disagreement of philosophies in the Burrow.

Rudi — who is, admittedly, the chef in the family and thus is the person most direly affected by having no free surfaces in the kitchen — would like to call the landlord and have our handyman sent to clear the drain, since running drain declogger has not helped. He feels life is too short to wait around for things to improve on their own. He has a valid argument.

My feeling, on the other hand, is that if I leave peelings in the garbage can for several days they break down and turn to liquid. We’re at three days now. We’ve got to be getting close for those peelings in my drainpipe.

There are bigger things out there to feel passionately about and whether I have to reuse my teacup for a whole week between washings is really not one of them. (Yes, I exaggerate. Washing the oil-soaked pans we fried things in would be nice.)

I just can’t get my dander up over dishes. 50% functional illiteracy in the nation’s capital is worth getting upset about. The FBI potentially tapping my phone because we’re a house of Democratic activists is worth getting hot and bothered over. But not a kitchenful of dirty dishes. I just can’t muster the energy for that.

I say let it rot.

We’re now ten days into the New Year and I thought I’d check to see how my resolutions were going.

The good:

• To see more movies in the theater.

Saturday night we went to see Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire at the IMAX. It was good, but we arrived late and had to sit in a fetal position all night looking up Harry’s nose. Tonight we went to a sneak preview of Hoodwinked. It was cute and if you’re looking for a movie to take an eight-year-old child to, you’ll be pleased. If you don’t have a child to take with you, I’d wait for the video. Mind you, I’d still rent it. I just wouldn’t pay ten bucks for it.

• To entertain more.

We’re going strong on this one, having invited some friends over to celebrate Russian Christmas with us on Sunday. (For the record, Orthodox Christmas was on Saturday, but we all were invited to another party then so moved our party back a day.) We were still running around trying to finish last minute things as people were arriving, but it was definitely less stressful than when we go many months between having folks over. And it was a lot of fun…

• To bake more.

I baked for the party, but forgot in my rushing to adjust the oven temperature up 50 degrees. So the mint sticks were still good, but a bit … fudgey … in the middle.

• To knit something for myself.

I haven’t picked up the sock yet (although it’s going to my knitting group with me tomorrow), but I am working on a throw on size 35 needles with yarn Mum and Dad gave me for Christmas last year. It’s slower going than I thought it would be using needles that large because I have more stitches cast on than the needles really ought to be able to handle and I have to stop several times during the knitting of each row to shove yarn up one needle or down the other. Because I can’t see the throw all at once, I won’t know until I’m done whether I like what I’m making. But it does add a bit of suspense to a project for me.

• To spend more attention on Rudi.

We watched a new show on tv last week and when it was over we turned off the tv and discussed why we liked it. And that discussion morphed into a discussion about life. Sure we could have started with the high-falutin’ stuff, but don’t those sorts of conversations usually evolve from the more mundane as opposed to starting at a sophisticated level?

The “I’ve thought about regularly but haven’t acted upon yet” category:

• To call and write more often.

I meant to get thank you cards out and thank folks for our lovely presents before the stamp rate rose Sunday. Didn’t happen. Also thought about calling some friends up to say hi and happy new year. But I didn’t. I have sent a couple of emails. But that’s not really the same, is it? I mean, it’s nice to get real email amidst the spam and the bulk-distribution book reviews and concert adverts and action advisories, but it doesn’t really beat having the answering machine light blink when you come home or the anticipation of ripping open an envelope with your bare hands. High priority should be placed on this item in the next week.

• To spend more time outside.

I meant to get outside this weekend. Really. But then I was looking at the tv schedule and discovered that my UConn women were playing Tennessee on national television. When I lived in Connecticut, I was able to get a twice-weekly fix of seeing them on PBS (yes, our PBS station really is that cool). Now I’m stuck waiting for them to play Georgetown here in the District (never a very competitive game) or catching the one day a year regular tv deigns to broadcast women’s college sports. Next weekend. I promise.

• To frequent the library.

Ummm… I meant to go tonight between work and the movie, but then I didn’t go. I’d like to rectify this sometime this week because I should finish my book club reading tomorrow and it would be nice to have a good juicy novel to sink my teeth into over the weekend (after I come back from being outside).

The “Oops, were these 2007’s resolutions?” goals:

• To take more advantage of the local resources.
• To look for a new job.
• To take a class.
• To do good.
• To appreciate as much as I can.

I think I’ll plan on revisiting these goals on a monthly basis in order to demand some sort of culpability from myself and to offer progress reports. That doesn’t count as another goal, does it?

Last night we went out to a friend’s birthday party. He’d decided to split it into two parts — the first at ESPNzone’s sports-themed arcade and the second at a local bar.

I admit it — we blew a lot of money at the arcade. It was like a step back a decade or two and we had a blast bowling, shooting hoops, skiboarding, waterskiing, playing in baseball, and playing air hockey.

Then we came back to Dupont Circle to hit a local bar and have a bite to eat. Unfortunately, the bar was mobbed and the air heavy with smoke. By the time we eventually found the rest of our party, I was coughing and decided to head across the street and join some other friends at another restaurant.

I continued coughing until well after we arrived home two hours later. My clothes still hadn’t aired out this morning.

I’m not one to throw away a whole year of my life, but I will be very excited when January 2007 rolls around and I’ll be able to join my friends at any restaurant or bar they choose without having my lungs fill with smoke. I realize that it’s currently a choice for me that I can opt not to go to places that allow smoking. But it severely cuts down on my ability to go out with friends late at night. And that hurts me — and any business that wants my money. Last night the Big Hunt didn’t get any of it and Cosi got it instead.

Anyone can make resolutions that they won’t follow through on — lose 20 pounds, clean more often, be on time for work… I, on the other hand, want to make changes to my life that lend themselves to being kept.

Therefore, in this year of 2006, I do hereby resolve:

• To see more movies in the theater. So often I mean to go and don’t. The video store can become a resource for all those movies that have already come out.
• To bake more. I love to bake. I’m good at it. People enjoy what I make. It’s a very basic way of sharing of myself and my time. And I have all those cookbooks and recipes just waiting to be tried out.
• To entertain more. I don’t tend to invite people over because it requires a massive cleaning each time I do. But after they’ve gone home, I always think how worth it the frantic cleaning had been. The end does justify the means.
• To call and write more often. I’m bad at keeping in touch. I call periodically and write even less. But I experience such love and happiness when other people phone or send letters. I have to remember that others are just as busy as I am (if not more so) and that the love you give is worth the love you take. That and I have nice stationery.
• To spend more time outside. As Rudi and I were sorting through photos for his mom’s calendar, we kept being taken by the shots from outdoors. D.C. is home to a lot of nice outdoor venues — like Rock Creek Park and the FDR Memorial — and I don’t take enough advantage of them on my bike or by foot.
• To frequent the library. I made one paltry visit to the library last year. One. Yes, my job sends me to at least three conventions a year where they give away books. And, yes, the D.C. library is highly inadequate compared to the libraries I’m accustomed to. But it won’t get better if people don’t use it. So I should take that book of books I’d like to read and start checking the books out. The added incentive is that if I don’t like the books, I can take them back without any guilt. And I might find some gems.
• To take more advantage of the local resources. There are Smithsonian museums I have not yet set foot in. I have never been to the Library of Congress (of course, if they’d let me take books out of there, I’d visit the library daily!). I have never seen Monticello. And apparently there’s a women’s history museum over in Southeast.
• To look for a new job. I don’t have to take it. But it would be good to remind myself that there are many things I like about my current job and that I’m not there simply because they were the only ones who wanted me.
• To take a class. In something. In anything. Maybe to do with baking. Or knitting. Or a foreign language. Or yoga. Or how to play the guitar. But I’ve been away from classes for nearly five years now and I find I miss the learning environment.
• To knit something for myself. I haven’t knit anything for myself since the very first project I did more than a year ago. I have bought yarn for some projects for me, have received supplements to the stash, and have a sock sitting on needles that’s awaiting its completion and its mate. As long as I don’t give it all away, I should be fine.
• To do good. Dogooders can depress me and it’s just because I’m jealous. I haven’t figured out what I’m passionate about and how to turn that into a “Rewarding Volunteer Experience.” I should give up worrying about it being an RVE and just do something to help someone because I can. The time has come to stop complaining, get off the sidelines, and join the game. By the time I’m halfway in, I wouldn’t be surprised to discover that participation is its own reward.
• To spend more attention on Rudi. We spend a lot of time together. But we’re watching tv or I’m reading or knitting. And sometimes we’re out and Rudi is talking to someone else and he says something profound and I think, “Now, why didn’t I know that?” Instead of half-listening (the way I’m sometimes prone to doing), I need to work on truly hearing.
• To appreciate as much as I can. One of the final scenes in Our Town has Emily coming back to view her past life from beyond the grave. She is told to choose an ordinary day and is devastated by how little she or her loved ones appreciated the small things, let alone the large moments. It’s probably too much to hope to achieve on a year-long scale; but maybe I can work on trying for some of those everyday moments I’ll look back for when I’m old.

It doesn’t feel like Thursday, but my calendar says it is. This week’s Three Beautiful Things:

1. I stopped at the store and bought something small today so I would have cash to go to lunch with some coworkers. Because I had cash, I was able to pay my portion and head back to the office instead of having to wait to sign a credit card slip and getting stuck in the elevator for an hour with seven other colleagues.

2. I had from 3 p.m. on Friday until 8:30 Tuesday morning off from work. Days stretched out in front of me luxuriously. I slept in. I didn’t put on a bra. I drank huge amounts of tea and ate lots of chocolate. I made waffles. Rudi and I saw lots of movies and lots of Britcoms. I could get used to the three-day weekend after the three-day workweek.

3. Rudi gave me The Princess Bride for Christmas and we watched it last night. From beginning to end, I enjoyed the whole movie — once again. It’s one of the few I can pretty much recite from start to finish (because it was a popular sound byte source for computer activity my sophomore year in college).

Twelve of the thirteen miners trapped in the West Virginia coal mine have been found alive.

The last novel I read in 2005 featured a similar mine explosion — with the caveat that the miners all died. While my reading experience lead me to understand that warm weather and barometric pressure can increase levels of methane in deep mines, causing explosions, I was unprepared for this knowledge to be so sadly useful so soon.

I am delighted for the families of the twelve miners — and for the miners themselves. To have cheated death when all signs pointed to certain disaster is wonderful news to hear in the middle of the night.

To the family of the one miner who died, I send healing thoughts of peace. Knowing that others lived when your family member did not is little comfort when you are facing lonely days ahead. My thoughts remain with you.

Update: Apparently, it’s only smaller miracles happen. And maybe not even them. The revised news is that only one miner was rescued, and this morning finds him in critical condition in the hospital. I can’t imagine the horror and devastation you might feel if you were told your loved one had survived against all odds and then that was taken away from you. My thoughts are not adequate for that sort of loss, but I offer them to the families anyway, for I have nothing else to give (other than my own outrage toward the wrong reports and toward mine owners who chose not to improve safety conditions despite dozens of citations).