On Sunday, I cemented a resolution for the coming year: to entertain more. Technically, it was two things I ought to do (clean and declutter) but reframed in a positive light that means I have a shot at actually staying true to it.

My second resolution for the year shouldn’t require such trickery:

I resolve to stay in touch with friends far afield.

As Shelley recently reminded me, when I moved south I loosened my ties with friends I left behind. I was so devastated by moving that it actually caused me pain to talk to them. I was better for a while and then two years ago I suffered a major depression and retreated again. Talking to a loved one could literally cause me to weep for days. So I stopped. I stopped calling. Letter writing had fallen by the wayside already, and I even got bad at mailing birthday cards. I let people know about the blog and figured that was good enough. They’d be able to keep track of me and wouldn’t have to worry. I became a lazy friend.

But as Christmas approaches each year, I break out the address book and make a good-faith effort to reach out to everyone who has mattered to me in the last 15 years. And, for the most part, I hear back from folks. And every day for six weeks I’ve gone to the mailbox thinking about the fact that there could be a little bit of love tucked in between the credit card statements, the nonprofit pleas, and the ads. Each one I opened, pored over, and then hung in the hallway over the archway to the kitchen. I can see them from nearly any spot in the Burrow — and they bring me great joy. In fact, they probably won’t come down until right before my birthday, when I start to feel bad about still having Christmas “decorations” up. (I will not tell you the last time I took a postcard off the fridge, though. If you’ve sent one since we moved to D.C., chances are it’s there…)

So I got to thinking that others probably have similar reactions to getting real mail. We see it so rarely these days. Okay, so maybe not everyone displays it. But it’s a tangible offering that someone cared enough about you not only to spend the $.42 to mail something, but also to spend the time writing the paragraph (or page) or two about their life. I know email is faster, but for the same reason it feels like it matters just a smidge less. That’s not to say I wouldn’t value an email, particularly if writing one is about as time-consuming as you can manage in this busy lifetime.

Same thing with phone calls. I need to call folks more. I used to talk to people all the time and it’s a rare thing now for me to pick up the phone. Instant messages are great, but sometimes hearing someone’s voice is important. Important news merits a phone call. I promise if I have any of my own, I’ll call. But it shouldn’t just be the big news that nudges the phone into my hand. It should probably also be the “I miss you’s” and the “I was thinking of you’s” that compel me to call. You won’t know if I don’t tell you.

So, if we haven’t spoken in a while, expect a call sometime soon. If you’ve got an imminent birthday or anniversary, a card will make its way into the mail. And, heaven forbid, if I owe you birthday or Christmas presents (I’m looking your way, Grey Kitten, Rebs, and Eri), I will get things out of my closet, wrapped, into a box, and out the door. After all, I’ve been thinking about you — and I thought you ought to know.

This is a song that Kat reminded me about last week. It’s Red Molly, performing their version of Susan Werner‘s “May I Suggest.” To finish the round of name-dropping, I’m pretty sure that the first version of the song I heard was Ellis Paul and Vance Gilbert’s on their covers album, Side of the Road.

I chose this rendition, rather than the original, because I’m a total sucker for a great a cappella harmony.

I’ve been thinking about it — for five days now, at least — and I’m feeling pretty confident that I’ve come up with a good resolution for 2009:

I hereby resolve to entertain more this year.

Yes, that is too a serious resolution.

No, I don’t think it’s ridiculous at all…

Here’s why:

Rudi and I have lived here for … six years now. We have a solid group of friends now. We have groups we belong to. It’s nice to spend time with these people, and, yes, while I can always suggest to Sarah that it would be fun to go have grilled cheese and tomato soup one night or to Amani that we should meet for a cup of cocoa, it would be even nicer (and certainly more affordable) if I could just toss out the odd, “Hey, why don’t you stop by tonight/Saturday/the next time you’re in Dupont Circle?”

But we can’t.

Because Rudi and I live a suburban lifestyle in an urban apartment: we’ve accumulated too much stuff. So first we need to pare down some.

Then we need to reliably keep the place tidy. We are terrible about that, particularly because there isn’t a place for everything, so the incentive is low… (See above.)

And then we can have folks over — to watch Sense and Sensibility and drink tea out of all my new tea pots and tea cups… to play board games… to knit… to just hang out.

So, I reiterate: I’d like to entertain more this year. I’m thinking twelve times doesn’t seem unreasonable over the course of the year…

Do you have any goals/resolutions for the new year?

I realized after I went to bed last night that it was Thursday and that, for the first time, I’d forgotten to put up a three beautiful things post. I considered dragging my tired butt out of bed so as not to mess with tradition, but since I was coming to work today, I thought better of it. So today you get yesterday’s post of three beautiful things from the previous week:

1. Our annual New Year’s Eve movie marathon had a rather shaky portion to it (more on that this weekend), but we ended strong with Bedtime Stories. It was everything I want in a fairy-tale: an affable hero, a villain you can root against without remorse, and a happy ending.

2. I got the chance to see both BW and Karen while home at Christmas, as well as to make a Christmas night phone call to Grey Kitten — a good end to 2008. And yesterday we spent time with the Cap Hill gang with a wonderful New Year’s Day brunch, before I was able to catch Erik on the phone for a long-overdue chat. I love spending time with my friends and hope that this is part of a larger theme for this new year. Here’s to more phone calls with those far away and more gatherings with those nearby.

3. Rudi and I decide at the last minute to add two more doughnuts to our drive-through Dunkin’ Donuts order on the drive home. The woman at the window hands us a bag filled to the top and tells us she’s added a few more for free.

The beautiful thing I thought of last night as I was falling asleep that I told myself twice not to forget eludes me right now. If I remember it, I may share an addendum…

Why is it that hitting publish suddenly brings it to mind?

4. We change our return plans so that we are driving home at night. The lights along the Garden State Parkway cheer us, since New Jerseyites are possibly the most festive and ardent outdoor decorators I know and whole neighborhoods seem to participate. A mobile park along Route 1 offers tin soldiers at the entrance — and the most vibrantly lit tree. It stands at least two stories tall and every branch is coated with white lights. It literally glistens in the breeze as a beacon to road-weary travelers. I wish the people who decorate the official National Christmas Tree on the Mall would call them up for some tips.

Well, Day 1 of 2009 has reached its close. If it’s how the rest of the year goes, I’m going to be pretty happy. We cooked, we did a few chores, and otherwise we generally spent the day making merry.

We went to a party (I made a trifle) where I was introduced to the wonders of lucky Southern food (black-eyed peas and cheesy grits; the lucky greens were gone before we arrived)… We visited with friends… I made a few phone calls… I read… I knit… I hung out with Rudi and the cats…

Yep, if this is how 2009 plans to be, it’s going to be an excellent year.

How’s the year looking for you?