Note: I dislike Coldplay so I’m not actually making a reference to their song “Fix You”, but it’s too popular to ignore the connection.

As we plow ahead into the new year, full of vibrant ideas of resolve and willpower and self-improvement, I offer these words of caution…as I sit here eating chocolate covered pretzels for a morning snack.

Do you ever let someone else’s opinions sort of run you? I don’t mean you go from athlete to couch potato, or movie savant to historical-trivia savant, but if someone tells you that you’re funny, do you lean into it a bit more? Or when you join a fantasy football league because someone suggested it — even though you didn’t care at all before.

Or if you’re like me, you make small changes to your diet to please your friends, wholly resent that you modified yourself for them, and then binge in the opposite direction. Do you ever let someone try to fix you?

Mostly suggestions and nudges from people we like and respect aren’t going to be harmful for us, and may even be really good for us (think of all the new friends you made in your fantasy football league), but there will always be people out there intent on fixing you.

We all tend to think that our opinions and beliefs about others don’t really impact them as much as we think. We believe we had a glancing influence — and always for the best. But what happens when people take what we say to heart? And begin to act not according to who they are, but how we would prefer them to be? How do we keep from transforming our friends into our reluctant image?

On the other side, there’s a permanent tug of war we’re all engaged in between “I’m happy with who I am” and “I could be better”. Where’s that fine line for a friend or family member to walk that doesn’t push and doesn’t pull, but doesn’t stagnate? To be honest with you, I’ve discovered it’s partly my job to help people find that line.

If you’re a pushy, opinionated friend like I am — one who speaks confidently their opinions and asserts pseudo-facts as genuine wisdom, check yourself. Take some of that wisdom and reason and look around you to the people you’re “helping” and discover if you’re helping them or yourself.

If you’re the impressionable, easily swayed, “I’d do anything for my loved ones” type, recognize that inherent danger and make friends with prudence first. Give yourself time to evaluate the advice and its source and act accordingly. Don’t let their personality overwhelm yours, and hold your ground firmly. If they’re the right kind of friends, and the supportive kind of family, they’ll honor that.

It took me years to discover it’s okay that I like to be on my own. And it’s also okay that almost no one I’m related to understands this. I think my Mom’s reaction to my decision to live on my own without a roommate was, “won’t you get lonely?”

This is the right way to handle your doubts about a loved one. Ask a question. In this case, my Mom’s questions said more about her own concerns in living alone than mine. It meant I could address her fear without her giving that fear directly to me. After all, she could have simply said, “I think it’s a bad idea. You’re sure to get lonely.” It’s that kind of confidence which makes you question your own thought-out decisions.

Make your resolutions, make your changes, but make wise decisions not for others but for a better you.

In terms of accidental holiday traditions, this is by far my favorite. Sugar, drinks, sugared drinks…those are at least three of the important major food groups. Or so I recall from Elf.

The original baking day was much more focused on baking and decoration. Effort was put into it. Thought. Detail. Care.

In recent years, I don’t know if it’s due to advancing age or decreased attention span, but cookies have gotten more…eclectic.

There was the year when we had a star cookie that was completely covered in candy eyes. Or the time someone dumped all of the blue sprinkles onto a cookie, ate it, and looked like a Smurf murderer. Or any time someone decided to forgo icing with a knife and grabbed a spoon or used the opportunity of being sans-utensils to reflect on the simple joy of Dunkaroos.

Inevitably a batch of cookies gets burned in the oven, or we create a horrific color for the icing. And in a cramped kitchen there’s dish upon a dish of stuffed mushrooms, cheese and cracker plates layered over sprinkles and teas and bottles of rum. It’s a glorious mess.

Cleaning up after baking day now is usually about finding weird fruit juice stains in the freezer, and candy pearls in the corners of the kitchen when I sweep again in May, scrubbing spots of purple icing out of the couch in the living room or off the back of the kitchen chairs.

I love all of it.

There is something inherently magical about gathering with friends or family around a table, around food, around drink. My best memories generally include food (though I’ve not reached my sister’s level where she can remember the type of sandwich she ate on any given memorable day).

Christmas gets a bad rap because people gain weight over December. All that socializing that involves food and suddenly you’re backtracking on your goal weight for the year. But we tend to forget that one of the reasons why we all love Christmas so much is because we spend more time with the people that we love. Eating is just a delicious byproduct.

Boozy Baking and time with friends may just work because it’s a mesh of two identical things. After all, baking while drinking results in a delicious mess, and socializing works the same way. Put in the effort, put in the time, and reap the rewards of your own beautiful disaster that we usually refer to as life.

Merry Christmas, friends!

I don’t send out a Christmas card. Few single people do, and if they do it’s usually played for laughs because the traditional seasonal card is heavily geared toward family. And if you’re single? Well you’re sans family, thrown into the wilderness of wild singles parties and poor decisions and hangovers, all to cope with the horror of being alone. Right? I’m sure that’s right. I think I’ve seen it in a Hallmark movie.

At any rate, I hate all the prep work of doing a holiday card, but I rather enjoy writing them. So here’s mine.

Dear Friends and Family,

I turned 30 this year. Maybe it’s my lingering OCD from childhood, but I was looking forward to being exactly three decades old. Every year ending with a “6” is one that I find personally exciting. It’s a fresh start every time. 30.

This is the year I effectively leave behind all the things I did wrong in my 20s and move forward with new motivation, more awareness, better life skills (I say this after stealing three slices of “Maui Zaui” pizza from the company fridge for the second day in a row). In my 30s I thought I finally get let in on the secret of being an adult that is so elusive when you’re in your 20s.

Bit disappointed to discover the day after my birthday that I’d gained no new magical insight over night. The rest of the year seemed to slide steadily downhill, too on a social, political, and, hell, everything level.

How is it possible I’ve not improved in the kitchen? Unless you count cocktail aptitude, in which case my tasting palate has even been utilized by a local bar. Is that regressing? I can’t tell.

I thought at 30 I’d finally start going to sleep at a reasonable time and waking up when adults do. I thought I’d be one of those people who wakes up at 6 and has time in the mornings for devotions and coordinating an outfit. Maybe making a balanced breakfast. Instead, I’m still horking down partially toasted bread/toast as I run out to my car with my coat unbuttoned.

Honestly, I thought I’d be like one of those 90s romantic comedy women. Just like a default setting, you know? It’s just the maturity that comes with turning 30.

Despite not accomplishing the 90s ideal of womanhood, nor accomplishing any other pipe dream goals for the year (saving money for a killer vacation, saving money, ending procrastination, losing weight, gaining muscle…), I’ve discovered something really important.

• Fines at the library for late returns on DVDs are usually cheaper than what you’d pay to rent them from Amazon.
• Barbra Streisand’s song “People Who Need People” (are the luckiest people in the world) is so true.
• Life doesn’t imitate art, but that’s why art is so special.
• Reading is magical.
• Church people are just people. And that we all need Jesus more than those un-churched unfortunates.
• I learned how to make my own amaretto and sour mix.

No, I don’t have anything earth shattering to share with you. This year went smoothly by like so many others before it (thank you, God). That being said, even if the year went by almost unnoticed, it happened all the same.

I’m different this year than I was last year. Just a smidge, just a touch. Maybe not enough to notice outwardly, no kids, no spouse, no house, no career shift….

Where was I going with this?

Oh right, to sum up: Christmas isn’t about relational success or life success or …success. It’s about those small moments that seem insignificant that prove to be earth shattering later. Small moments like a baby being born in a backwater town, born Savior of the world.

Anyway, I suppose I’m saying Christmas isn’t about me at all. And that’s kind of fantastic.

Single person prep for the holidays tends to be about dusting off last year’s armor and seeing if it still fits. Finding new defensive weapons in your arsenal, and digging out a foxhole to hunker down through the worst of the “celebrations” in safety.

But. A friend of mine had a revelation she shared with me. Something earth-shattering from her standard “hold your breath, close your eyes, wait for it to pass” holiday stance. She realized that she didn’t have to say yes to everything, she didn’t have to spend time where she didn’t want to, and she could even make her own traditions.

Crazy, isn’t it?

Imagine getting a say in what you do with your time instead of feeling drug along in a slew of couple-centric, child-centric outings where you are the unpaid, full-time photographer.

Don’t get me wrong, holidays should bring out our charitable, generous, joyful sides. But for so many single people it’s a personal time of anguish and covering over those unpleasant emotions with false advertising — truly echoing the commercial spirit of the season.

I can’t tell you how make your holidays more fun and exciting. But I can tell you what I do with mine:

• Christmas Decorating Disaster: I don’t have a professional decorating technique, but I love Christmas lights. And I love the ceremony of unpacking the same ornaments year after year and putting them on the tree. I also love Christmas cocktails, and animated Christmas movies. And on my decorating day, I combine all three into an extravaganza. As you may have guessed, by the end of the day I’m the one who’s a disaster.
• Boozy Baking Day: I’m not 100% sure how this got started, but each year I gather some friends together to drink warm seasonal spiked beverages from a crock-pot, and make my mom’s spritz cookies with icing. The best part is that once the crock-pot is empty is usually when we get to the icing. Best looking cookies you ever saw.
• Christmas Movie Marathon: Christmas movies are fantastic, and few things get me into the season faster than plopping down with friends to watch one or two or three. Hopefully spaced out over several days. My must see list includes:
  • White Christmas
  • We’re No Angels
  • It’s a Wonderful Life
  • Muppets’ Christmas Carol
  • Home Alone
  • Die Hard
• Treat Yo’ Self: I buy myself a Christmas present. It’s true. I even wrap it up and put it under my tree. Doesn’t have to be big and it probably shouldn’t be expensive, just something I picked out myself.
• Stocking Shopping: One of the things I miss most about being a kid is having a stocking, and the fun little stocking stuffer presents. Tiny little fun items that somehow were so exciting to unwrap. So this year I took a page from a friend’s book and went  stocking shopping for myself in early November. By the time Christmas comes around I’ll have forgotten what I bought, extra Christmas surprise!

There’s no guarantee what the holiday season has in store for you, and for those of you who are struggling already, my heart goes out to you. The holidays should be a time for comfort and good tidings, not dread.

I encourage you to look to the right sources for seasonal inspiration and Christmas spirit, and don’t be disheartened if you discover your own family may be lacking; they might resent the same pressures you’re experiencing. But hey, give them the above list and let their imaginations run wild for next year.

It’s always up to you to enjoy your life every season of the year. Don’t let you down at Christmas.

I didn’t meet Jr. Eastwood online. Shockingly.

But I did meet Andrew from Oregon. I’m not sure how other dating websites work, but eharmony has a ropes course toward romantic fulfillment.You go through challenges of “intimacy” and as you get to know someone you go to the “next level” (squee). “Next level” means essentially more “in-depth” questions.

I do think this works for the large number of people who use it, I mean, obviously, people get married after meeting on eharmony. But for me it was simply a quick and not complete vetting process to determine if Andrew was a serial killer. There were a couple suspicious indicators that he was out to murder me.

He was REALLY excited to meet me. Even when I put him off he would not be deterred. Each conversation ended with “coming to Portland soon?” Come on, right? That’s super weird! People wanting to meet people? More like people wanting to MEAT people.

We also had way too many common interests. I’m always suspicious of people who like the same things as me. I assume it’s a sneaky way of trying to relate to me. You can’t force the “we were meant for each other” thing on me. I’m way to smart for that.

Plus, it leaves no room for me making fun of him for his interests. Which is also my chief way of flirting. And also just my chief form of speech.

It was all too suspiciously easy. A couple of clicks, a few short sentences and suddenly the door is wide open for a relationship? No, I don’t think so.

That’s usually how you know someone’s out to get you, they make it easy for you…too easy.

Plus, I didn’t really do the eharmony thing on my own. I had a gaggle of over-excitable friends coaching me on my responses. Hi, Andrew. I’d like you to meet the me you’ve been talking to. It’s actually four of us. Two of whom are already married. That’s not going to be weird, right? Of course, four people might have put him off from murdering me.

But in all seriousness, I’m sure Andrew from Oregon was actually a really lovely guy. I’m also sure that online dating isn’t for me because my end goal isn’t marriage. It’s just to get people to stop asking me to try online dating. Because the site is geared toward marriage, that’s the assumption about your interest in joining. “Research” wasn’t an option.

If my life were a dramatic movie with a voiceover, I’d be telling you how there is no “research” option in life, it’s all do or do not. But to be honest, my life isn’t a drama. It’s a poorly planned comedy. I had to try online dating, just for the laughs.

A few years ago now I convinced myself that going out at night after 9 pm was an okay decision. I mean, I’m a night owl, right? That’s me just getting into my groove. What I forgot was that my “groove” is solitude and a book and a comfortable bed.

I have rheumatoid arthritis, have for about 17 years now. I’m relieved you wouldn’t know it to look at me, but it’s not as easy as it sounds either. I’m not a social butterfly for several reasons, and arthritis is one of those.

When I went with my friend to a bar to hear a new folk duo at 9 pm, I was really excited. I kind of forgot life happened outside a house after it got dark. And I love folk music and beer so this seemed like a great idea.

The bar, which has lots of other redeeming values, is very low on seats and we got there late which left us standing for most of the show which was about one and a half hours of me standing on concrete in fabric shoes. I might as well have been barefoot.

It’s uncomfortable for most people, but when you have arthritis this uncomfortableness is compounded. What a lot of people tend to miss is that pain is not just painful (obviously) it’s also exhausting. I was pretty well shot after about an hour.

Now, you’re asking yourself, couldn’t I have just asked someone at one of those tables to switch? Couldn’t I have finagled myself a seat? Of course. But when you look normal and claim arthritis (which everyone knows only happens to people in their 80s) and you’re ousting people from their well earned comfort to no comfort? Yes, I don’t do this. I’ll stand, thank you.

Eventually enough of the more parent-looking people left and my friend and I got seats. The music was lovely, I was exhausted and I put my head down on the table to enjoy its soothing and relaxing quality better. When the show was over and we were leaving I found one of the two in the band and blurrily (remember, tired) turned to him and said, “Thank you, you guys were fantastic, I loved listening to you.”

And he said, “Yeah, we could tell”, and then shouldered past me.

Now at the time, I was so flattered! He’d seen how much the music moved me! Wow. I’d made a connection with a stranger at a bar and we were on the same page. I was stunned and elated and, frankly still exhausted and not processing things correctly.

It dawned on me a couple days later that he’d been cold in what he said, curt. And then I thought about how I’d looked at the end of the show, sleeping on my arms, not watching them at all.

Oh no. He was being sarcastic. You’d think I’d know that when I see it, but in this case it was so far from where I’d actually been that I was blown away. I wanted to tell him that what he’d seen hadn’t been what he thought he’d seen. I wanted him to know that even though I didn’t look the way he’d wanted, I’d sacrificed a lot that night to stay and listen, and I wasn’t sorry I had.

But here we are, years later, and every time their music comes on my ipod this is what I think of even as I’m singing all the words to each song.

It’s so easy to take offense; it’s so easy to see something and assume the worst. And the truth is I sometimes enjoy being offended, do you know what I mean? It’s fun to have someone to rail against. I think it’s because I so rarely have something to be genuinely offended by. And the times when I could have been genuinely offended I’ve usually been too surprised to do anything about it. But the suggestion of offense is just irresistible.

Even now, it’s possible that my first reading of his words was correct. Who knows? Maybe he was what I perceived as curt but really it was shyness or embarrassment. There’s no way to know now. There’s no way to clear the air.

I had a handicapped sticker in my car for a few years there. And I would go places in a bad mood and I would park in the handicapped spots and just wait for someone to come up to me and say “hey, you can’t park there, that’s for handicapped people.” And then I would just tear them to PIECES. “You don’t know me. Just because I don’t look handicapped, you think that means you know what handicapped means? You want to talk about my handicap? Let’s talk…” and then just totally lay into the person.

It never happened, thankfully. Because that imaginary person, however much I might view them as a jerk, it’s not how they see it. They can only see a social justice hero out defending the rights of the handicapped, a group of people I can only nominally count myself included as a member.

And there are people that park in handicap only spots who shouldn’t. And there are people that are disgusting enough to yell at someone who is handicapped because they’re looking for an excuse to be a bully.

And there will always be those people. And you know what, there’s also a lot of handicapped people that are jerks. A handicap doesn’t automatically make you a good person. A lot of handicapped people continue to be plagued by the fact that they’re still people. And people can suck a lot of the time.

But mostly what I’m trying to say is this: there’s always going to be injustice in the world, and sometimes that injustice is going to be unfairly directed at you. You’ve got a lot of ways to handle that when someone comes at you and I really hope that you consider them as more than the screaming insensitive jerkface you see before you, because odds are they too have a lot going on in their life, and they can’t wait to take offense either.

I’ve noticed something, in life. Well, a couple somethings. But one of the important ones I’ve noticed is you can’t really go wrong with encouragement. By that I simply mean I’ve never said something to encourage someone else and regretted it later.

I talk a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. Whether I’m with humans or animals or by myself I’m talking. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I’m telling myself or someone else. And the reason that I talk a lot, the most fundamental reason, is because I’m hoping to bury my idiocy in a barrage of words so large that you can’t figure out which ones were stupid.

The really cool part is that no matter how much idiocy comes out of my mouth, I will remember all of it in case you don’t. You’re welcome.

I cringe at things I’ve said in high school still. Ugh. Thinking about it again. I was awful.

Point being, there’s lots of reasons why I’m an introvert, but one of the biggest is how exhausting I find social situations because of how much extra work and anxiety I put into my conversations. I’m not alone in this. But I am an obsessive over-analyzer, worrier, and as has been pointed out, I can be a little hard on myself from time to time.

All that being said, I’ve often told myself — before launching into a controversial conversation topic — that I shouldn’t talk. Just don’t do the mouth opening. I can’t ever seem to manage it and I always tell myself way later, “You see? This is why we can’t spend time with nice people. Because you say all the things.”

Given that at any moment something I personally find horrific/offensive/embarrassing/inappropriate/derogatory/etc will fly out of my mouth, the epiphany I had this week is exceptional.

The only words I have ever unequivocally not regretted saying have been words of encouragement.

For some reason, giving another human positive feedback never results in me later giving myself a pep-talk about “don’t use your words”.

I don’t know if you know this, but people love getting compliments and encouragement.

I know, mind-blowing.

I personally don’t care for it too much. Any positive word or note I’ve been given I burn immediately. When someone says something kind to me I immediately flip them off and walk away.

Yeah. Right.

I LOVE positive feedback. I have saved every kind word anyone has ever written about me. Back to the fifth grade when we were all forced to write nice things down for our classmates. Half of them wrote “You played trumpet good”, like they knew, but STILL it made me feel great to get it.

Sometimes I wear clothes because I want to be complimented. Sometimes an encouraging word or a compliment can transform my entire day into something beautiful. And whenever someone says something nice to me, against my will I like them better.

Guys, there are literally no downsides to improving someone else’s day by treating them kindly and saying nice things to them. In fact, when I say something encouraging or kind, my own day improves too. It’s crazy.

It’s like giving someone a sandwich and then one magically appears on your desk. Man, people would be giving out sandwiches left and right if that was a thing.

I don’t know why it’s not like that for positive words. It should be, you’d think that’d be common. But we get caught up in all these stupid blocks:

• I bet they hear it all the time
• They don’t need to hear it from me
• I don’t have time to stop and tell them
• No one’s said anything nice to me in awhile, what’s the point
• If I say something nice it’ll start a conversation and that would be terrible (this one might be just me)
• I don’t want them to think too highly of themselves
• Let’s not get sappy and sentimental
• What if they take it wrong

Of course there’s more than those too. We all have weird reasons for why we don’t say nice things to others. But in my limited experience with positive expression, it does wonders. You might hear something like:

• Really? I always thought it wasn’t…
• You have no idea how much I needed to hear that today!
• Thanks! I wondered if anyone noticed…
• That makes my day
• I was thinking it might be time to stop…
• Seriously, thank you so much!
• You’re amazing! Here’s a thousand dollars and a sandwich.

No that last one hasn’t happened to me. But sandwiches are amazing, and a compliment in and of themselves. To food.

I don’t know. Maybe it’s just me. But I say give it a try, you know? Just try telling someone that great thing you’ve observed about them. Don’t settle for liking a status on facebook, use your words.

I promise, this might be the only thing you say that you don’t regret.