Nothing matters when we're dancing.

Incredibly, there's now a ballet studio in tiny little Coronado.

As certain family members know, I had this thing for being on my toes when I was little. I remember wanting to take ballet classes so badly, but if there were any available, they would have been at least an hour away, so it never happened. Plus, I had basketballs and stuff to play with.

So I had to do it. I joined ballet class.

With 10-year-old girls.

The idea was to have an adult class twice a week, but there are only two of us -- so we get one day to ourselves (Tuesdays) and one day with the crazy flexible little girls (Monday).

I've only done a couple of classes so far, but I'm loving it. It's difficult physically, of course, but it also requires so much concentration on my part (new steps, new ways of moving, lots of body parts to coordinate) that it becomes an hour and a half of meditation, as well. I've found it impossible to think of anything else while I'm in class. Only ballet, and how somewhat awkward I am at it.

The Local Locos

I stopped helping out at the restaurant in Gorgona in order to start helping out at their new location, which opened in Coronado.

Doing things like opening a restaurant in Panama is no easy task, and so it was that it seemed like we weren't going to pull it off, and I only ever know half the story of what's going on.

But we had invited about 60 people to have a dinner featuring some of the highlights on the new menu, as well as five carefully chosen glasses of wine. (I got stuck on the Pinot Noir.) So we plowed ahead.

Despite our careful consideration when it came to inviting guests, and an explicit notice on the invitation that each was being invited because of how laid back and understanding he or she was of what it's like to open a restaurant in Panama, we still ended up with a few complainers. Unfortunate, to be sure, but the food was good, the wine was good, and people danced. This is going to be fun.

An ode to the resolution.

I don't normally set new year's resolutions, as I've found it easier to just implement those changes throughout the year as they occur to me or as I realize they need to be done. But I still love and respect the resolution, because I love when people make a decision to change their lives for the better -- and I love it even more when they follow through.

As a fitness instructor, I've had a front-row seat for many resolution successes and failures. I noticed a few trends that seemed to indicate whether or not people would give up or not.

Some of those who quit the gym after a couple of weeks were so focused on speeding toward their desired result. Every day that they weighed the same as they did the day before was frustrating and painful. They couldn't seem to wrap their heads around the fact that it took them a long time to gain weight or to fall out of shape -- and it would take awhile to lose it or to increase their fitness.

The exercisers who were able to focus on each workout and appreciate where they were, those who were able to congratulate themselves for a job well done on each particular day, were still in the gym by March, by July, and beyond. It's what yoga has been teaching me all along: the best place to live is in the present.

You can't be plagued by guilt if you're not dwelling on the past -- on too many chocolate chip cookies and too many missed workouts. You can't be frustrated if you're not dwelling on the future -- the hopes of a possibly unattainable body or the fear that you might never get where you want to be. Taking each day at a time was a huge factor in those successfully executed resolutions.

I haven't had a gym for about a year. For awhile, I really missed those workouts -- I missed lifting weights. But I'm starting to appreciate what not having a gym is doing for me.

At first, I felt like those failed resolutionists, freaked out that I was failing my body by not doing the sorts of workouts I was accustomed to. Then I got back to my roots. I ran more (the most portable workout), took long walks, and did a lot more yoga and pilates. Even though my cardiovascular and muscular endurance aren't what they used to be, I'm thrilled with the creative crosstraining I've been doing. I work out every day, but I don't have a routine: I do what feels good. I don't feel guilty if I only run one time this week. And based on what I learned from the successful and failed resolutions, I think this approach is going to do me just fine.

So once again this year, I don't really have a resolution. But if you do, I hope you take it day by day -- and then one of those days, you'll look back and go, wow: that change set in, and I didn't even realize it.

Each year happier than the last.

It was down to the wire before we knew how and where we'd be celebrating the new year. Our friend's invited us to join them at another friend's place, so it was sort of a third-party invitation, but we were welcomed and we had a great time.

The fireworks stole the show, as they did when Jack, Joel, and I rang in 2007 in Vienna. My only regret is that we were in a backyard rather than on a rooftop somewhere, though I have since heard that every rooftop was incredibly crowded. I appreciated the breathing room we had.

After the fireworks died down, we went out to the beach for a few minutes, listening to the waves and staring at that dark, starry sky.

Happy 2014 -- to the best yet.