1.06.2009

hello there, 2009. can I offer you a drink?

You know that "we've gone insaaaaaane!" feeling you get when you've been in a car too long and suddenly you are incapable of functioning like a normal human being when you get out at a convenience store and are unable to walk or talk or buy the damn soda without cracking up?
Yes, a 12-hour drive from NYC to Cincinnati will do that to you. Hence the absence- the residual insaaaaane wore off sometime on Monday.


"Insaaaaaaaane" might also be an apt description of my New Year's Eve, but only in the best air-guitar-ing, dancing-to-Prince, eating-whiskey-cake (insaaaaanely delicious, even with a slightly overcooked top) way. Following that, I had to sit down and think about resolutions, and why I kind of hate them.
I think, first and foremost, it's the way that "resolutions" makes me think of pompous twits in high school debate clubs who like to begin every other sentence with "resolved: I will eat pizza for lunch" and such. So, in lieu of calling them "resolutions", I vacillate between with the labels Things I Want To Do and Wouldn't It Be Awesome If I...?, and so my TIWTD/WIBAII list for 2009 is as follows:

Get a job. Preferably one that starts just after graduation, so I'm not stuck being unemployed and jumping into paying off debt from grad school in June.

Travel to Asia to visit the boyfriend.

Once again, eat a fruit or vegetable with every meal. This worked out in 2008, mostly, and was most excellent when I decided that fresh salted chili mangoes are the greatest fruit snack ever.

Take salsa dance classes. The learning curve is going to be killer, as I cannot dance for shit, but the opportunity to wear sexy salsa shoes (bronze and gold snakeskin?) on a weekly basis will make up for it. (Bonus: there's a bar rather close to my apt that has free salsa lessons every Monday night. I don't have to get up on Tuesday morning anyway, right?)

Take martial arts classes once again. Many years ago (twelve, actually) I got my black belt in Tae Kwon Do, and then a year later, every extracurricular activity known to high school sophomores essentially took over my life and I quit going to to the studio. I have done no martial arts since then, save the occasional drunken demonstration of a spin side kick in C's living room. Martial arts classes don't come cheap, but will be worth the money spent if saying "no, thanks, I must go to my Mixed Martial Arts class that evening and think about how I'd like to hit you in the kidneys" proves a more effective deterrent to unwanted attentions than simply saying "no, thanks, I have a wonderful boyfriend".

1 comment:

Jen said...

2009 will only accept a drink from you if it is champagne poured from a bottle in your cleavage. Because no one could resist that.