It happens every year.

I hit the new year, get my priorities set for my resolutions, and then WHAM! — reality gets in the way. Derailed! I don't even know how it happened.

First ... I was going to cut the sugar. But people keep leaving the paper, there's a steady slew of sayonara treats, and I'm only human.

Then ... I was going to get back in fighting shape. But it's been Obamarama-this and Global Economic Catastrophe-that, so the hours at the office have been piling up and thusly my waistline. It's not bad, but it's "bikini bad," which means I gotta get on it before I have jelly rolls.

Then ... I resolved to get my finances in order. But there was a sale at Lucky Brand. Not my fault, there was a big sale. They're all having big sales. And I'm doing my part to save the economy by buying jeans.

Then ... I wanted to stop smokers from tossing their butts onto sidewalks, which is the No. 1 source of ocean trash. I resolved I would write that ONE THING that would get all smokers to unite in common purpose against the slovens among them. So I counted the butts on one downtown block while walking, just counting as I strolled. Forty-seven! Are you inspired? Yeah ... that resolution's dead, too. Some guy even tossed a butt from his car in front of me yesterday morning. Sheesh...

Then ... I was getting so disgusted with the Israeli-Palestinian dilemma that I set a resolution — let's solve it! All the rhetoric about Israel's right to defend itself should be tempered against the reality that if you put 1.5 million Palestinians in a small cage with restricted access to goods and services, some of them might start to behave like animals and hurl dysfunctional rockets. That said, Israelis shouldn't have to negotiate with Hamas, given its charter to destroy them. So if they can't live peacefully — or even adjacently — how about we relocate Israel to Central Florida? Real estate is rock bottom, we'll never get another chance like this. Hillary, call me! ... Oh, wait a minute, that's just nuts. The State Department will laugh.

If you hadn't guessed, I'm not big on New Year's resolutions. They're pretty silly.

Change doesn't happen because a date certain rolls around with your dreams and aspirations pegged to it. But it can happen gradually, with sustained effort and desire. You have to keep at it, like water eroding rock.

So I'll do another beach cleanup, e-mail Clinton to press for negotiated settlements (and wish her luck), and find other ways to heed our new president's call to service.

Maybe I'll be fortunate and see positive change in my lifetime. Again.

Reach Christine Strobel at cstrobel@honoluluadvertiser.com.