Sunday, January 4, 2009


I don't make New Year resolutions. To me, it's just another way of listing things that will never get done. I'm perverse enough that making a list almost assures the failure of achieving anything on the list simply because there is a list.

Get that?

I also don't set "goals" as a pansy-assed way of avoiding the word "resolution". Do it or don't do it, but don't wimp out on the terminology. I have some things in mind that I would like to see happen in 2009, but I won't handicap their chances by sticking them on some sort of list. Look, it works for some people. I'm not some people.

Basically, making it to the next year fully intact is challenging enough of a resolution for me. I think of my friend Jane's resolutions and realize that this mind-set of mine is far from positive, but it's nearly 7 pm on my last night of a disappointing vacation, so I'm going to just wallow in my mediocrity for a moment and resolve to be more positive tomorrow. Don't defriend me yet, Jane.

Ugh, I said it.

I guess, if anything, I can resolve to be more me in 2009. "Is't possible?" you may ask. One shudders to think. But I valiantly resolve to be more of a survivor, more of a good time - not that way, you pervs! (okay, maybe a little) - more committed to the things that matter to me, and less negative about those things I can't control even though they are few and far between (kidding! sort of). I promise to be more snarky, use bigger words (if I can find them), and radically obliterate preconceptions and limitations relating to my size, my income, my brain, my faith, or my hair color (though I'm not a blond, so half the battle there is already won). A good enough start to any year.

How do you like me so far?

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