It’s 12:01 am, January 1, 1999. You’re tipsy from champagne, you just kissed someone you never planned to bring into the New Year, and you’re trying to remember the vows of self-improvement you made yesterday. Need a little inspiration? We called some old acquaintances—and some new crushes—among the POZ all-stars and asked, “What’s your New Year’s resolution?”

Marcy Chase, peer educator for transgenders: “I’m going to keep trying to help the girls. They only come out at night, so it really draws on your social skills.”

Robert Hudson, captain of the Get Challenged: “To find a sailboat for the 1999 TransPac race for our HIV racing team.”

Sean Sasser, activist: “I am committed to spending a significant period of time outside of the U.S. to learn more about experiences that are completely foreign to my way of life. Too heavy? How about ‘I resolve to quit smoking?’”

Andrew Sullivan, author, pundit: “To wean myself off testosterone shots and still have a sex life.”

Scott Williams, writer: “I just turned 30 and finally achieved some semblance of equilibrium in my life. So I resolve to change nothing in the next 12 months.”

Brent Minor, director of communications, Food and Friends: “To get back to my old self. Most people think that a mouthy queen like me has all the confidence in the world, but AIDS really does a number on your sense of self-worth. Eleven years ago, I never doubted myself. I struggle to be that person again.”

Michael Onstott, executive director of National AIDS Nutrient Bank, writer: “I have side effects from my meds and no libido. In 1999, I resolve to exercise and have sex.”

Darien Taylor, director of communications, AIDS Committee of Toronto: “I resolve to read the newspaper every day.”

Emily Carter, author: “I’m hoping to make a more productive use of my intermittent psychotic episodes and use that manic energy to clean
my house.”

Eric Sawyer, co-executive director of the HIV/AIDS Human Rights Project: “To do everything I can to bridge the gap between the circumstances of people with HIV in the developing  and the developed worlds.”

Bill Barnes, acting San Francisco AIDS czar: “To become a better bowler, impact federal AIDS policy and stop surfing so much on
the Internet.”

Jane Fowler, co-chair, National Association on HIV Over 50: “I resolve to reduce my protease paunch, so I’ll no longer look pregnant—-at age 63!”


In the same week that her Vogue makeover hit the stands last fall, Oprah Winfrey added Pearl Cleage’s What Looks Like Crazy on an Ordinary Day (Avon), about a woman living with HIV and looking for love, to her book club’s list of instant bestsellers. The narrator’s hankering for a little of that human touch struck a chord with the beloved queen of the media, who urged her audience to run out and buy the book. Congrats to Oprah for giving the ailing HIV-related printed word a shot in the arm.

In another gliterary star-turn, Emily Carter’s short story “Glory Goes and Gets Some” was selected for 1998’s primo-prestigious Best American Short Stories. On knocking one out of the ballpark for the home team, Carter told POZ, “After slogging away for 18 years at being a professional writer, it’s delightful to get that kind of validation.” Can’t get enough of Carter? Surf over to our back-issue library at to savor her August ’98 POZ online debut.


Your doc and your main squeeze both agree that beefing up your butt is 1999’s top priority. So now what? We asked for tips from HIV positive chiropractor Allen Huff (above), a genuine teddy bear and cofounder of Houston’s Kinetic Sports Clinic, a fab gym that caters to the HIV set. FYI: Big, tough Huff is set to open exclusive clubs for HIVers in New York City and San Francisco. Talk about bicoastal biceps!

1. Set realistic goals. Don’t get discouraged by going for too much too fast. It’s not how much weight you lift—it’s how you lift it.

2. Get a routine. Working out at the same time every day will create a pattern that makes going to the gym second nature.

3. Avoid rush hour. Until you’ve gained confidence, skip the heavy traffic during the before- and after-work rush. A plus: When the gym is less busy, the staff is more available to assist you.

4. Find a gym buddy. Having someone counting on you being there makes getting out of bed easier. Look for a guy or gal at your level of physical capability.

5. Keep a workout diary. Record your activity or exercise, the time you spent and how you felt. Highlight your accomplishments in bright colors so that you can see your progress.

6. Stay motivated. Some days are better than others. If you expect the occasional setback, it won’t have long-term effects. But we already know all about that, don’t we?

“All I know is that I’m kind of living through whatever years until they forgive me for being alive because it’s much too long I’ve been alive. ‘Holy Christ, she’s not supposed to live that long!’ It’s almost like a resentment. It will turn in a minute, and they will realize that I belong to them. It’s because of them I’ve lived this long.”

- Liza’s recent chat with the Times of London raised eyebrows. But did you catch these bons mots for fellow long-term nonprogressors? Clip ’n’ save!