It’s been two weeks — do you know where your resolutions are? Regardless of whether you watched the ball drop at midnight EST or on West Coast time-delay (twice the celebration means three times the fun), those lofty promises of self-improvement have a way of disappearing right about the time your hangover dissipates.

Or so pop culture says. Although this temporarily ambitious behavior may be normal for the rest of the world (there’s a reason why gym membership explodes in January, only to drop off sometime around February 14th), there’s something distinctly un-Stanford about letting go of goals — fantastic or otherwise.

As I noted in my last column before break, we believe fervently in delayed gratification — remember that brilliantly penned litany of accolades on the folder containing your acceptance letter? The one that recognized the hours of rehearsal, practice and competition, not to mention sleepless nights, you diligently poured into your high school career? Three weeks ago, 750 more high school seniors received the same praise-bearing envelopes, and not because Stanford is too cheap to print new ones. Indeed, some traditions (the Band Run, Full Moon on the Quad and other boring events along the same lines) come and go, but one will, hopefully, never leave: the steadfast, determined worker-bee student.

Unlike those irresolute matching-jump-suit wearers who abandon the treadmill after six weeks, we Stanford students make our commitments whole-heartedly. Although gyms (excluding 24 Hour Fitness) may close, Campus Drive is always open. And in case you didn’t notice the last time you stumbled home from Meyer’s 24-hour study room, there are people inside at any time of day — or night. Dedication and sleep are not always compatible.

But if most of us are unwilling to make promises we can’t keep, then what is a Stanford student to do on New Year’s?

True to Stanford form and journalistic good practice, the remainder of this column contains a thoroughly researched response to this question. Although we all honor our work commitments differently, my personal devotion means working well in advance of deadlines. And so it is that, prior to December 31st, I formulated a hypothetical answer to my question and then, ever the dedicated columnist, spent my co-hosted New Year’s Eve party in search of verification. Say what you will about my method; I was, of course, correct.

Option #1: Go all out.

Stanford kids are no strangers to this no-holds-barred mentality. Unless you spent five hours a day staring at the bottom of a swimming pool and ended up competing in the junior (or adult) Olympics, your well-rounded approach to life — a little bit of community service, a little bit of student government and a lot of impressive titles — is how you got here, right?

Thus, “I’m going to figure out what I’m doing for the rest of my life,” Brad said. Employed by a biotech firm in South San Francisco since our graduation in 2004, Brad is hardly lacking in current stability or in future options. Apply to med school? Business school? Grad school in biology? Work as a biochemist at a bigger company and then try to make a lateral move to marketing or business strategy? Biotech consulting? Oh, and he also wants to travel. His list is endless, but he refuses to compromise. Shortly after we spoke at 10:30pm, Brad and his girlfriend left the party — they had at least one more stop on their evening’s calendar.

Option #2: Go against the grain.

As predicted, the overwhelming majority of responses I received fell into this category. This is hardly surprising, given that we’re well-practiced in this arena, too. “I don’t make New Year’s resolutions,” Laura said. “If I want something, I go after it — regardless of what day it is.”

“Why wait for January 1st?” she asked. “What if the perfect opportunity is out there in July, but you haven’t bothered to put in the time to find it?” Laura’s post-college career track record: Bain, tech start-up, Google. Not exactly swimming upstream by Stanford standards, but hardly meandering with the 9-to-5 current.

Option #3: Go deep.

On the surface, resolutions of this sort appear the most “normal” by national standards. “I’m going to stop biting my nails,” Nari said. “With the exception of last year, when I didn’t bother, I’ve made the same resolution since high school. Once I made it for three months.”

However, as the next 20 minutes of conversation revealed, even the most simple, recognizable resolutions take on new dimensions in their Stanford form. As Nari discussed historical observations (“I do it when I’m thinking hard. I told my boss that if he sees me doing it, I’m earning my money”), possible psychological underpinnings, and current rationale (“It’s not professional”), it was clear that he’d put more than a little thought in to his choice. Perhaps most indicative of this intellectual approach: “I’ve been easing in to it, starting a couple of days ago. Cold turkey never works.”

Without exception, every resolution I heard fell into one of these three categories. A few contained both options 1 and 3. As I mixed and mingled amidst the candlelit apartment, juggling a glass of champagne in one hand, a camera in the other and a growing list of mental notes, I stumbled across a resolution of my own: keep doing it this way (“it” being life/work/play/you name it). When the process is enjoyable, the importance of the end result pales in comparison. In case you have any doubts, just ask a Stanford grad about the most valuable, meaningful, life-changing part of his or her Stanford career; I doubt any of them will mention a diploma.

In addition to enjoying the journey, Lisa Mendelman resolves to go to bed before eleven, figure out what she’s doing in June and respond to all emails she receives at lisame@stanford.edu.