I used to start off every year with an exhaustive list of goals, resolutions and how I was going to make that year the best ever and be my best self. While I appreciate the sentiment of self-improvement and achieving goals, by the end of January I'd be burned the fuck out, and just plain sick of "my best self," because to be frank, she's really annoying. My best self doesn't always have a sense of humor because she's too busy being "the best," she sees setbacks as failures instead of experiences, she puts actual importance in the false self-validity that is social media, and she thinks one missed workout will determine her entire summer. In short, she kind of sucks. It's like, take it easy, you're not Madonna. For 2016, while I have goals I'd like to achieve, baby weight to shed, and places to experience, I'm not merely defined by this and if I don't get around to all of it this year, as the French say, ça va. I'm grateful for the present and what I had right in front of me. In the fall, I received a part-time job that I absolutely adore writing about France for a travel company, I live with my dear love and a mini version of him, and we got a Vegetti to make those zucchini noodles! So I may be little chubbier, my interests may have shifted from Fashion Week to formula, and a high-five worthy goal lies in the proper execution of a goop meal (seriously, they can be hard!), and it's just perfect because you know what, that's what going on at the moment. Perhaps this is the evolved version of my best self, the rewrite, and I like this chick. She's fun to be around. So I wish you a very happy New Year and cheers to your best self! Whatever the script may be...