As everyone already knows by now and doesn’t need me to tell them, it’s finally, finally 2017. Not only is it 2017, it’s the New Year. We are officially on the cusp of the past and the future, in that short window in which everyone remembers what happened the past year and wants, desperately, to move past it—the moment before nostalgia sets in. It’s the time of new beginnings, renewed hope, and uncharacteristic motivation.
Okay, I get it, time is a construct and starting over can really happen at any time, not just the time that was premeditated by ancient calendar-makers whose whims somehow determined the rise and fall of ourselves. But, in spite of that little technicality, the New Year can still be symbolic. It can still be a proper noun, capitals and all, to those of us who want it to be.
And you know what? I want it to be. I don’t care that it’s a cliché, that it’s something stand-up comedians make fun of in their earlier routines (and I do mean earlier routines as in not as good, more obvious routines; I don’t care who I offend).
However, I don’t buy into the whole “new year, new me” sentiment. The phrase has its uses, and I do think it can be hilarious as a non sequitur. It’s just not useful as a mantra. I like the underlying idea, that there is some change within us that coincides with a more universal beginning, felt by everyone in some way to some extent.
But I don’t think it has to be as drastic as a whole “new me.” There is nothing wrong with the old me. The only thing that the old me needed to work on was how she saw herself.
So this year, instead of believing that I need to change completely for this trip around the sun to be a good one (or at least a better one than the last year-not-to-be-named), the only thing I’m changing about myself? I’m getting a new set of teeth.
I am no longer surviving by the skin of my teeth. I will fight tooth (and nail) for the respect I deserve. And I’m finally putting some teeth into my own value. And if you don’t like it, I’ll bare my new, strong, shiny chompers at you till you step off. New year? New teeth.
If that sets your teeth on edge, you better get a mouth guard, because I’m biting off just as much as I can chew in 2017, and, if you want to eat with me, you’re gonna have to catch up.
To all of the haters, I have but one thing to say: New year, who dis?
Student. Writer. Everything-o-phile.