THE OBSERVER

RESOLUTIONS

Keep better snacks in my car

The Observer can pinpoint the exact moment in time she fell deeply, deeply in love with celebrity chef Nigella Lawson, and that is when Lawson turned to the camera during an interview and confessed that one of her biggest fears involved being out and about in the world, being hit with a hunger pang and having no food. Heard, Nigella! The velvet-voiced TV star went on to say that she keeps snacks stashed in her handbag — an accessory she’d come to talk about a lot in the media, thanks to her penchant for toting not only snacks, but Colman’s English mustard and a tin of Maldon sea salt. (Also cocaine, the Brit gossip machine alleges?) In 2023, The Observer vows to follow suit. Not necessarily on that mustard and salt and cocaine part (but you do you, Nigella), but in a “turn your car’s center console into a sweet snack HQ” sorta way. Thinking maybe some of those wasabi-coated almonds, some salt & vinegar potato chips, some Ratchford Farms elk jerky for when we’re feelin’ fancy and some Dove dark chocolate, which we solemnly swear will not languish long enough for the Arkansas summer swelter to transform it into a puddle of goo.

Less Dwight Schrute, more dish diligence

Like everyone else, I want the new year to be a fresh start. I’d like to exercise more, eat more vegetables, read more books and keep a cleaner house. But let’s be realistic here and set some manageable goals so these resolutions don’t wind up in the trash can by February. First, I’d like for fewer of my meals to be handed to me through a drive-thru window. Second, I’d like to start unloading the clean dishes from the dishwasher so the dirty ones don’t pile up. And, third, I’d like to read more instead of watching reruns of “The Office,” even if it is that episode from Season One when Dwight picks a new health care plan for the office.

Try out that sustainability thing … again

In the wake of what feels like the impending doom that the world could end at any second, The Observer wants to tackle 2023 with a more sustainably conscious mindset. Reusable sandwich bags and silicone covers already have their place in a kitchen drawer, so I’ve at least made the start of an effort already. But I’m talking about cutting out paper towels completely, bringing glass jars to fill up at the grocery store, never forgetting my reusable sacks in the truck of the car and being less of a consumer overall. In line with being more sustainable, food waste is something that The Observer is ashamed of. Buying the appropriate serving for one or two people at the supermarket is a feat in itself, but that shouldn’t be an excuse to ignore the leftover meals waiting for me and call up my favorite take-out instead. So maybe The Observer won’t be able to ditch the car and bike all around Little Rock, but having a hand in the trash pile that leaves my apartment is a solid start.

The more achievable the better, right?

Last month, the Observer moved into a new apartment in a new city and — while some furniture-related strides have been made — there is still nothing on the walls. By a few months into 2023, I hope to have decorated my way into a home. The saddest part about this resolution is that the issue is not a lack of artwork. The Observer has many photographs, posters and paintings just begging for application to a flat surface. And yet, they remain in boxes or strewn on the dining room table. I’m not the kind of person to look down on sticky tack or tape, either, so what gives? Commitment issues? Maybe a trip to the therapist is in the cards for the new year as well.

Keep Prosecco on hand at all times

Don’t you hate it when it’s Sunday and there’s suddenly something to celebrate but the liquor stores are closed and you have no bubbling libations on hand? 2023 will be the year of prepping, but not for the end times (although Prosecco might work then, too) but for impromptu festivities. This year The Observer resolves to make a clattering fuss over birthdays, promotions, new houses, successfully executed revenge plots, etc. We’ll be keeping a chilled bottle in the fridge, and maybe some raspberries in the freezer to toss in for flair. There are loftier resolutions out there, sure, but this is one The Observer feels confident about being able to keep.

Pray or just keep battling for my cat’s respect, and the politicians’, too

I resolve to teach my cat that I am the head of this household. I already remind her that I pay for her food and litter. Then, I give her that food and change that litter, and she still doesn’t get it. I even give her treats, occasional catnip-spiked toys and a scratching post on which she naps when it’s not bedtime. Still, she ignores my commands and invades the kitchen cabinet, jumps atop the bedroom door, naps in the bathroom sink, and gets stuck in the lidded recycling can. I won’t tell you her name because we’re anonymous here. Besides, she doesn’t like strangers; she tends to hide when they stop by. If they catch her, she’ll likely hiss at them worse than a politician under scrutiny hisses at a reporter. And she has fangs and claws most politicians I know lack. So in the spirit of unity, I ask all you believers, whether you’re dressed in all black, rainbow patterns or blue-pleated dresses with knee-high boots for the Wednesday night square dance, to unite in 2023 and say a prayer that my cat gets it right. If you’re not a believer, just forget the cat and help me out with those low-level politicians.