The Last Word column from today's Day and Night in the Irish Independent

If memory serves, I didn't make any New Year resolutions last year (the fact that I can't remember is surely evidence enough). In fact, I think I argued on these very pages that they are a big waste of time, seeing as nearly all resolutions made at New Year are violated faster than those passed by the UN Security Council.

This year, however, I've decided to change my attitude somewhat. I'm determined to make some changes in 2008, and see them through to the end* (*Terms and conditions apply). But I hasten to classify any of these plans as resolutions per se. Considering I've contemplated most of these things before, or have already attempted them and given up, I think it more accurate to call them New Year "resurrections".

So here are my resurrections, in no particular order either of importance, or of my level of commitment to stick with them:
Negative thinking: The one and only thing I'm definitely ditching in '08 is negative thinking, a dysfunctional form of mental hard-wiring that's kind of like smoking: a filthy, disgusting habit that poisons you from the inside. And I'm a chain-smoker (so to speak).

So from January 1, I'm going to slap on my Neg-atine patches, and think happy thoughts. Now, if I understand the gurus on daytime talk shows correctly, thinking positively will kick the universe in its big vindictive ass, and allow all the good things I know I deserve – well, want anyway – to come into my life. All of which should come in handy as I tackle my three resurrected projects, which are:

The gym: 'Oh how predictable', you cry! But wait! See, I'm already a member of a gym - quite a swanky one at that - so I'm pledging to resurrect that initial enthusiasm I demonstrated for fitness when I first joined, which incidentally lasted about 45 minutes (or however long that episode of Shortland Street was that I watched while listlessly gliding on the cross trainer).

This one is important as the gym is my only option to keep in shape, because the Lord herself knows I love food too much. Diets definitely are not for me, though I hear that several weight watchers are fans of a “regime” where they substitute lettuce for bread in their sandwiches, and replace one meal a day with a helping of cotton wool dipped in orange juice. Which serves as an unappetising segue to my plan to enrol in:

Cooking classes: Yes, I can microwave instant rice and slave over a hot take-out menu like the best of them, but 2008 is the year where I will master the foodie basics and a lot more besides. By the end of my cooking course, I plan to be the MacGyver of food, able to whip up delectable, Michelin star- cuisine with just Quorn, pasta, a duck egg, some string, and a copy of Irish country queen Susan McCann's 1991 album, Diamonds and Dreams.

Finally, learn a new language: I could be practical and make the effort to learn our second national language – you know, Polish – but I've been threatening to learn Spanish for years now, and I reckon it's time I got off my culo and did something about it. The idea is that once I master the language, a whole new world will open up to me, one rich in culture, literature, history (Okay, I want to chat up Hispanic guys in their own language, are you happy?)

Of course, despite my good intentions (is that the road to hell I see before me?), it's possible I might just pack all these in after two weeks because I just couldn't be bothered. Sorry, that’s negative right? I’ll pack them in because I positively couldn't be bothered. See, it’s working already.