As Gary Gnu would say: “Happy Gnew Year all ye Gnerds.”
Make no mistake — we Hominid’s have a lot to be proud of. 2012 was like some Remo Williams obstacle course forcing us to leap from and balance on one wobbly doom-beam after another:
A moon-sized asteroid hurtling toward earth, Iran’s nuclear threat, the Mayan apocalypse, the fiscal cliff, homicidal maniacs on shooting sprees, Honey Boo Boo, and most ruthless of all, Pizza Hut’s proposed pizza-scented perfume.
AND then, Master Chiun sheepishly turns off the lights and makes us do it all again, from the beginning:
But here we are. Stronger than ever because we survived, standing at the cusp of a brand new year ready and able to kick ass and take names. And, while I used to think New Year’s resolutions were a cheap marketing ploy invented by the health club industry —
I’ve come to see a grocery list of life goals to attain over the next 360 or so days as good, plain mental housekeeping.
So, without further adoodley do — here are my resolutions for 2013:
– Get Carl Kasell to the do the home voice message on my answering machine.
– Meet the Click & Clack Brothers
– See any or all of the following animals LIVE in their natural setting:
grizzly bear, mountain lion, elephant, sugar glider, Tasmanian devil, giant land sloth, barrel owl, humpback whale, wild boar, gecko, glow worm, gray wolf, and wooly mammoth, the last one requiring…
– Live in the present
– Eat more leafy greens
– Learn to play the hurdy gurdy, ukulele, air guitar, spoons, and or kazoo
– Sharpen my survival skills; read: increase my survival skills from NIL to at least 1. This may include, but is not limited to:
building a fire out of 2 sticks, charming a snake, jarring my own jam, pickling my own yam, learning to read a NON-digital wristwatch.
– Believe in the positive, except when it involves the results to a pregnancy, breathalyzer, and/or STD-test
– Consume fewer things that are wrapped inside other things that are then deep fried
– Stop looking up the extended weather forecast on my smart phone while driving
– Have more patience
– Download “Patience” on iTunes
– Take pleasure in the little things: flea circuses, sea monkeys, hotel shampoo, airplane mini-bottles.
– Stop watching “Dexter” before bed
– Dance more; this does not include pretending to sweep, mop, vacuum, wash the windows, and/or walk on a treadmill while on the dance floor. I’m talking learning the Pasodoble here.
– Stop being scared of the following:
soft pretzels, toe shoes, Costco, Siri, removable shirt collars, ear wax candles, potpourri, AND the untapped, underlying animal madness buried deep within all human beings.
– Stop buying items with any or all of the following attributes:
Has squirrel, robot, dinosaur, Voltron, or MacGyver stencils; is a tea towel, is a tote bag, is crocheted, macraméd, shrink-y-dinked, or etch-a-sketched; is made out of legos, paint chips, colored duct tape, coconut shells, or old soda cans.
– Join my local Quaker chapter for the monthly “Artist Way” meetings
– Become a working member of the local co-op
– Make new friends, but keep the old, one is silver and the other’s gold.
– Get up on stage to perform in front of a LIVE audience; this does not include standing on my bed with a hairbrush microphone and reading aloud to my cat, however constructive his feedback may be.
– Give up the ghost on a “My So Called Life” reunion OR of ever finding out what Bill Murray whispered in Scarlett Johansson’s ear at the end of “Lost in Translation”
– Become a mystery shopper to satisfy spy fantasies
Befriend more people with beach chateaus
Befriend more people with country chalets
Befriend more people with any French-sounding second homes
Befriend more people with second homes in France
– Stop Googling at the dinner table
– Be more adventurous: Going to bed without putting my retainer in is not the equivalent of girls gone wild.
– Start my anti-foodie magazine called “LARD.” It takes the “petite” OUT OF Bon Appetite. First issue columns to include:
Feedbag fashion, buffet etiquette, and Why Buddha is Always Smiling: Because He’s A Tubby Tub
– Memorize all the words to “We Didn’t Start the Fire”
– Get more serious about working out. Eating a Cliff bar and sitting in my gym’s sauna does NOT qualify as an anaerobic exercise.
– Stop measuring my life against the monthly Anthropologie catalog. In the real world, it wouldn’t be feasible to place your wrought-iron bed at the base of the sea shore ANYWAY. Can you say rust erosion OR rogue wave?
That about does it for now. Wish me luck!