Now that we're a few months into the New Year, it's time to take stock of all those resolutions we made when we were a little tipsy and pictured that weary, whiskered Old Man Time slipping into obscurity as we looked forward to starting life anew.

Many of us even go so far as to make resolutions that we hope will correct some faults or bad habits we might, pray tell, admit to having. And while it may be easy to make a few resolutions or even admit to having a few faults -- after all, no one's perfect -- it does take a lot of self-determination to take the bull by the horns and keep those well-intended (but not always well thought out) resolutions. Especially if you're hung over from your New Year 's Eve party and the two heads you're wearing won't stop spinning long enough to help you remember that this time last year you vowed never to indulge in such good spirited fun again.

It's no coincidence you know that January was thus named. The Romans obviously gave it a lot of thought when they named this month in honor of their sun god, Janus. In Roman mythology, this two-faced god looked in opposite directions. Much like we do each New Year's Day after a night out on the town. Janus had one face that looked into the past and another that looked into the future. Thus, to the Romans, he symbolized a god of new beginnings.

In time, the custom of searching for new beginnings spread to other parts of the world. In England, people went as far as cleaning their chimneys on New Year's Day believing that it would bring them good luck during the coming year. It was their way of "cleaning the slate.” Of course, if you don't have a chimney to clean on New Year's Day, you could always clean out your garage.

The ancient Persians gave eggs to their friends on New Year's Day. Since eggs hatch into life, this custom meant much the same thing as "turning over a new leaf.” At our house on New Year's Day, "turning over a new leaf,” means stirring the Bloody Marys with a celery stalk. Of course, if you feel a little foolish about giving your friends an egg or two, you could introduce them to a few new chicks. Or you could be a Good Samaritan and go door-to-door offering your neighbors raw egg toddies with which to soothe their New Year's hangovers.

I've given my New Year's resolutions a lot of thought this year and I've decided that come rain or come shine, I'm not letting one of them go by the wayside. No sirree, no more Mrs. Nice Guy! From now on, I mean business.

Last year, I made a resolution to go on a diet, and I did. I will admit that every diet I tried made me a better person, but unfortunately, a bigger person too. I attribute this failure to the see-food-will-eat syndrome I have developed over a lifetime. But this year, I will not only go on a diet, or two, or three, but I'm firmly determined that history won't repeat itself, and I'll get rid of all this "baby fat" I've acquired in my second childhood.

This year, I also resolve not to complain when my husband comes home late for dinner. I just won't cook anymore. And, I promise not to get upset when my spouse spends entire weekends glued to the television set watching football. In fact, I have two solutions to resolving this age-old problem. I'll either give the TV to the Salvation Army or forget to pay the electric bill.

My two sons will also be benefactors of my New Year resolutions. I will no longer nag them to clean their rooms. I'll simply get them a whole year's supply of Raid.

And, if all else fails, I'll move to Rome where being two-faced is looked upon with honor.