Here Are Your Mandatory Resolutions For 2026: Frosted Tips Issue #5

Pop the champagne. It's time for some New Year's advice.

Welcome to 2026, and to the final installment of Frosted Tips! This is the New Year’s Issue. 2026 is off to a great start for me. My New Year’s resolution was to become completely perfect, and nine hours in, I haven’t done anything wrong.

Before we dive in, I want to thank all of you for reading, subscribing, and sending in questions over the past month. I’ve been blown away by the response. We’re close to hitting 1,000 subscribers, which is roughly 995 subscribers more than I expected when I launched this thing. Thank you so much. There’s more to come.

And on that note, if you haven’t already subscribed, I hope you’ll consider doing so. If you’re the lucky 1,000th, I just might show up at your front door with balloons and a big check.

After this issue, I’m going to stash Frosted Tips in the attic next to the ornaments and the inflatable Santa. This newsletter will be reborn as something new soon, but I could use your help if you’ve got literally 10 seconds to fill out a survey. More info on that at the bottom of this email. But first, let’s open your letters.

Dear Frosted Tips,

2026 is going to be my hell. My best/only friend will be moving to another city. My parents are getting divorced. The startup I just got hired at is shutting down. I just graduated college with no other work experience. It’s going to be a horrible year. Any advice on how to hate it less?

-Defeated On Day One

Dear Defeated,

You can just hate it. I’m serious! The circumstances you’re describing are, unfortunately, way out of your control. So instead of putting pressure on yourself to somehow stop the bumpy road ahead, I think you can just accept it and hate it — so long as you remember that it’s not forever. Because here’s the good news: Everything you’re describing will settle with time. That is almost always how life goes.

And, by the way, one upside of going through a rough time is that even unpleasant, uncomfortable tasks can be a welcome distraction. That means that 2026 could be a great year for you to do even more stuff you might hate, like:

• Put yourself in awkward situations: Go to parties you’d rather skip to make new local friends, go to networking events to find your next job.

• Attempt things you might fail at: Teach yourself a new professional skill to build out your resume, try out new hobbies to fill your free time.

• Take on the horribly tedious task of caring for yourself: Sleep, exercise, eat well, go to that doctor’s appointment you’ve been putting off, consider therapy if it’s accessible to you.

Even if these things suck — and they often do — at least you’re not wasting a good year on them. Maybe there’s power in accepting that 2026 will not be your year. Use it to lay the groundwork for a better 2027.

Dear Frosted Tips,

Like any person in their mid-30s, I am limited in my ability to truly “get lit” as the kids say by the unfortunate physiological changes that come with aging. That said, there are a few times a year that are worth risking a two-day hangover, and I feel like New Year’s is one of them. The other aging millennials (including my spouse) in my circle simply can’t hang, like I don’t think anyone has made it to midnight for the past three New Year’s celebrations I’ve been to. Is there any way to Get The Party Started when all of my friends are trying to Evacuate The Dancefloor?

-Dancing On My Own

Dear Dancing On My Own,

I don’t know if you can bully your friends into drinking, but you can definitely bully them into being more fun. The best way to set the vibe for a party is to host it yourself. Can you do something at your place, and stack the evening with enough activities, excitement, and Red Bull to keep your friends up until, say, 12:05?

If hosting is not an option, you could look for a New Year’s party at a local bar or club. Those events can be stupidly overpriced, but maybe that serves your agenda here: Your crew might be more inclined to make the most of their evening when they’ve invested $80 into a ticket.

You have a solid 365 days to argue your case for next New Year’s Eve. But as you do it, be mindful of what your friends want, too. If you think they’d genuinely enjoy a wild night out and just need a little nudging, then by all means, nudge! But if they’re just not that into it, I’d back off and enjoy a fat martini from the comfort of your couch. There are worse ways to watch the ball drop.

INTERMISSION

Here’s a cartoon I drew. The problem with New Year’s glasses is that they don’t really work for the years without two zeroes. I think I’ve found a solution.

If anyone from Shark Tank would like me to pitch the New Year’s Monocle™, I’m available.

BTW, if you like my cartoons, follow me on Instagram! Okay, back to the advice.

Dear Frosted Tips,

Every New Year’s, I make a resolution and end up breaking it after a few weeks (last year was cutting out sugar…right…). Any suggestions for New Year’s resolutions I can actually follow through on?

-Resolution Commitmentphobe

Dear Commitmentphobe,

Hell yeah. I’m going to address this to everyone reading this. Here are six low-effort, life-improving resolutions I think everyone should make for 2026. In fact, I’m going to say that these are all mandatory:

1. Say your nice thoughts out loud: Like that stranger’s sweater? Tell him. Enjoyed a meal your mom made for you? Tell her. Think your friend has a talent they should explore further? Tell them. When you’ve got nice thoughts in your head, share them. It’s a 2-for-1 dopamine special.

2. Stop heating plastic in the microwave: I’m so serious. It’s really bad for you. Even the types of plastic you think you can microwave, like the trays they use for frozen meals. Don’t do it. Transfer everything to a plate before heating. There is no such thing as microwave-safe plastic. I basically think this is the most important advice I will ever give.

3. Question your feed: Social algorithms are designed to keep you scrolling, not tell you the truth. Google the info on that infographic before reposting it. Be wary of that viral TikTok skincare hack. Learn to spot AI slop. Get your news from boring, reputable places. Be suspicious of the advice column from some guy online whose main qualification is that he used to write for BuzzFeed.

4. Look at animals more: Animals are the closest thing we have to magic. Like, nothing J.K. R*wling wrote in those books is as cool as what crows get up to on a daily basis. Pay more attention to the animals around you. Watch some Planet Earth. Pick a new favorite animal — I’m currently on a big koala kick. You’ll learn cool stuff, you’ll feel more connected to the world around you, and you might find yourself making small changes, like (yeah, sorry) eating less meat.

5. Hold the door for people: It’s just a nice thing to do, but since this one’s pretty self-explanatory, can I use this section to elaborate more on the plastic thing? It’s actually so insane to me how much microwaveable food is served in plastic. It should be illegal. And don’t get me started on black plastic, which is literally made from old TVs and is actively trying to kill you. Do not microwave it.

6. Get a screenless hobby: We need to do things with our hands besides scrolling. Try painting. Baking. Reading. Sewing. Writing. Wait — that one usually involves a screen. No screens! Hiking. Yoga. Puzzles. Scrapbooking. Running. Photography. Looking at animals. Microwaving your food on a proper plate. Knitting.

I genuinely believe these six resolutions will upgrade your life, and they’re much easier to do than Dry January.

That’s a wrap on my holiday advice! Thank you, again, for reading. It’s been a joy getting to decorate your inbox for the holiday season. And there’s more to come! Which leads me to…

SO WHAT’S NEXT?

I hope to keep emailing you in 2026. But first, I want to hear from you. It would be helpful to know what kinds of things you most want to read from me. I’m like an aquarium seal, eager to do whatever tricks will earn me a mackerel from your bucket.

I created this super-quick survey. It’s literally one multiple choice question. How’s that for efficient? If you have a few seconds to answer it, I’d be much obliged.

Thank you, thank you, thank you. Or as a seal would say, arf.