I Shall Not…

It’s that time again – the dreaded New Year’s resolutions. Promises we make to ourselves with the hope that we will somehow improve our lives, ourselves, our worlds. Personally, I’ve always hated the concept that a new calender year should somehow morph us into people who we aren’t.

So, instead of resolutions, I’ve come up with a list of shall nots that I will not be doing this year:

  • I shall not go on a diet or resolve to remake my body in any way designed to raise my self esteem or self worth, rather I will celebrate who I am and how I look, cellulite and all.
  • I shall not quit any bad habits but rather dispose of the guilt I suffer from partaking in them.
  • I shall not be more positive, happier, kinder or nicer but rather will continue to be myself – speak and express my real and genuine feelings, opinions and ideas.
  • I shall not force myself to complete incomplete projects but rather savor whatever time I can spend on them and the creativity they excite.
  • I shall not plan or prepare for the futher whether emotionally or financially, but rather I will live in the present building my future one moment at a time.
  • I shall not get organized, catagorized or sanitized, but rather I will embrace my stacks of magazines, toppling tower of books, endless scraps of paper with notes & ideas and name the dust bunnies who live under my bed.
  • I shall not eat right, cut out fat, sugar, carbs or any other foodstuff that caresses my tastebuds but rather I will enjoy my food more, savoring every morsel and thank God for my bounty.
  • I shall not take stock of my life and determine all of the many things that require change and improvement but rather will accept myself for the unique and infinitely flawed human being that I am.
  • I shall not get a better job with more money and benefits but rather find work that satisfies and rewards me and does not ask for my soul if I do not want to give it.
  • I shall not endeavor to make a difference because I know that I already do, as do all of us, simply by being who we are.
  • I shall not seek to find someone special, go on blind dates or be party to any other ploy designed to find me a mate but rather find the specialness in everyone I meet.
  • But most of all, I shall not regret any mistakes, missteps or failures but rather treasure the lessons that they teach me.

That’s my list, what’s yours?

Have a happy new year, celebrate, be safe, be happy.



This is the time of year that we are all supposed to take stock of our lives – at least the most current part of same – and see the errors of our ways, things that can be improved, bad habits that can be shed, reaffirmations of goals forgotten, lost or abandoned. Pretty serious stuff.

I don’t know about you – but I’ve never been very big on New year resolutions. The concept sounds nice in theory – the old clean slate approach. The old year is ending and the new upon us, why not make those changes, improvements, goals in that same spirit? Well logic tells me that if a person wanted to make those changes, lose that 20 pounds, quit smoking, stop dating co-dependent men/women, become more centered, find the peace within themselves, fly to the moon or stop drinking, carousing and/or in any form improve themselves or their lives they’d just do it. I mean cripes, how silly to only give oneself that small window of opportunity to affect a change in their lives.

So, I was thinking that a new trend might be in order. I think at the stroke of midnight in the first minute of the new year we should all sit down and resolve what stupid, idiot, assinine behavior we simply won’t give up. It probably won’t help anything either, but it could be a lot more fun:

On the first minute of the new year of 2007 I resolve:

1. To continue flipping off people who cut me off in traffic. I may add to that a short stint of manical stalking – at least for the next quarter mile.

2. To tell stupid people that they are stupid and they either need to get smart or stop taking up space.

3. To add several more obnoxious patriotic bumper stickers to my car.

4. To spend money I don’t have.

5. To buy frivolous things with the money I don’t have.

6. To find the sourest puss in the grocery store line and to make faces at them til they laugh or leave and get me that much closer to the checkout.

7. To make fun of the Clintons, John Kerry, Jimmy Carter, Imajihad, Lil Kim of Korea, Rosie O’Donnell, Mike Wallace, Maureen Dowd, Brad & Angelina, Rodney the idiot, Al Gore, myself and pretty much anybody I feel like.

8. To squeeze my fat ass into jeans that are too small, whilst taking small, rapid breaths (who knows I could meet someone on the bus).

9. To call AT&T and scream at them for general purposes.

10. To be proud of my big fat ass.

11. To say whatever stupid-ass thing that comes into my head.

12. To refuse to diet.

13. To have more adventures with Zelda and anybody else who has the stomach for it.

14. To pretend I don’t remember what year I was born.

15. To eat ice cream and hot dogs and wave flags on the Fourth of July.

16. To like and admire George W. Bush.

17. To believe that there is a God and no amount of indoctrination will ever change that.

18. To know that most hearts are in the right place but that minds and mouths often aren’t.

19. To have fun even when life sucks.

20. To wear funny socks that so don’t go with my outfit.

21. To not care how I look in the bank television monitor.

22. To watch movies that make me feel good.

23. To write stories that I love.

24. To blog my fricking ass off (hey maybe it will work???)

25. To know that every day is a miracle – even if I have to try very hard to see it.

Those are my resolutions – how’s about you?


The Pact With My Fat Ass

Life is cruel sometimes and often crueler to me than most. I mean, look I set off with the lofty goal of quitting smoking – after I’d been doing it for a bagillion years. So, I wrongfully concluded that life would do me some sort of favor by doing so. Perhaps I would be able to sing well enough to audition for American Idol. If not that, well enough to not crack the bathroom mirror. Or maybe my teeth would become sparkling white. Or better still, that I’d find I’d have more energy and get all zippy and perky.

But nooooooooooooooo. No way. No how. No, no, no. Instead, what did life give me for my ultimate sacrifice? Yes, right. a big, fat ass. No kidding. My ass went from just big – to ginormous in like 2 hours. Still, I persisted. I went without. I cursed, I cried, I screamed at pretty much everybody – but I didn’t smoke. Still my ass grew, like the tear in the ozone layer that Al Gore (who also has an ass problem if you don’t mind my saying so) is always whining about. In fact, I recieved a notice from the post office the other day that my ass officially has its very own zip code.

So, now after a year of wedging in and out from behind the steering wheel, trying to count how many new chins I now have and eating chocolate non-stop I have decided to put my foot down. I have made a pact with my fat ass. I have promised to let my fat ass wear stretchy comfortable pants after work, after I work out. My fat ass in return has got to get out of the chair and work out. Frankly, I don’t trust the ass any further than I can throw it – but I’m willing to go on faith for the time being.

I’ve also gotten my big mouth to agree to remain shut when in the vicinty of food. And my thunder thighs to agree to squats – providing I buy talc to cut the chafing. My hair on the other hand has been quite cooperative and for that I am thankful.

So, anyone else out there have a misbehaving fat ass that you’d like me to talk to? I can give it some tough love. I can whip it into shape. And I’ll get right to it as soon as I finish this hagen daas.