A New Year's resolution is for life, not just for Christmas

I Wikipedia'd New Year's resolution and this is the opening sentence: A New Year's resolution is a commitment that an individual makes to a project or the reforming of a habit, often a lifestyle change that is generally interpreted as advantageous. Now I know most people try to give up smoking or lose weight or their virginity or whatever but I'm not looking to sacrifice anything. I am looking to acquire something. That something could be the key to unlocking my breakthrough in the freelance world. That something I want to acquire is (drum roll please) a taste for Scotch whiskey. Nothing commands more respect than a guy drinking a Scotch on the rocks. You see any man drinking whiskey from a fine tumbler and you instantly take notice. You think, "hey look at him, he's a real gent. He drinks a man's drink without spoiling it with a mixer. He must be a philosopher among his people. That man is Moses." Give me a Scotch egg, no problem. Scotch tape, let me at it. A glass of Scotch old boy, err...any coke with that? All the greatest men drank the stuff: Dean Martin, Winston Churchill, Ron Burgundy, Johnnie Walker...the list is endless. A short time ago I came home from work determined to drink a glass. My heart beat as I approached the famous grouse. We stood facing each other in a stand-off. My fingers twitched, the atmosphere was tense. I raised an eyebrow at it; the light caught the bottle and momentarily illuminated the liquid. Damn! 1-0 to the grouse. I reached for a glass not taking my eyes off it but I couldn't reach one from where I was stood so I had to break the stare and step back to pick one up. The bottle stood its ground still watching me. Damn! 2-0. I roared and lunged at the bottle tearing the lid off its neck with feral ferocity. I poured myself half a finger, glared at the whiskey in my hand, snarled and then knocked it back. Immediately my taste buds screamed at me, "what have you done you fool!" I spat out spraying the sink, window and cat with the victorious grouse's poison. Wiping my mouth with the back of my hand I looked at the bottle and muttered under my breath, "you may have won this battle but you haven't won the war." Two days later my girlfriend came home to find me sat in front of the TV with a whiskey on the rocks in my hand, a concentrated look on my face and my chin rested between my thumb and index finger. Before saying hello she laughed. Not a good start. I remained composed though. She asked me what I was doing. I acted casual. "What? Oh this. Nothing. Just relaxing." I took a sip whilst looking at her, tried my best to stifle a grimace and gingerly swallowed the content. She shook her head, laughed again and walked away calling me an idiot or something of the sort. After finishing the drink nearly two hours later I vowed that one day I would acquire a taste for it. That time is now. So going back to the Wikipedia interpretation - reforming a habit, yes I will be reforming my habit of disliking it; lifestyle change - vastly, I'll no doubt have a new aura about me; advantageous - you bet your bottom dollar it will be. This time next year the grouse and I are going to be partners in crime. Watch this space. Cheers!