Wednesday, December 30, 2009

It's almost 2010...

Well, at least it will be in thirty-one hours, Dear Readers. Mr. Realist and I are going to go to the Baker home and have some good nosh and some fun on the Wii and some card games and we might even bring over one of the Trivial Pursuit games we have. I really don't have to go out and get dressed up and inebriated (although I have been drinking an awful lot of wine lately...).

My friend Jessi and I have decided that just once, we want to go to Times Square and watch the ball drop. At the rate I'm going, I should have the money saved up for that in about thirty-seven and a half years. :) Mr. Realist, however, said that we could make it a girls thing, cause he sure in the fuck ain't going to New York City on New Years'. Don't blame him - he doesn't like crowds. Always getting pushed and shoved and he's afraid someone's going to steal his wallet. I love him :)

I'm setting myself some goals for 2010, Dear Readers.

1. Lose 30 pounds. It seems a bit unrealistic at first, but I'm pretty sure I can do it. When I was in high school, I went from a size sixteen to a size ten in three years. I didn't really do much - portion control, running or biking, and a tiny amount of weight training (to tone). Mr. Realist and I are rejoining the gym in our town after the first of the year. I've decided I can keep part of my 'hippo ass' if I could lose the front and look good in a pair of jeans again. I'm damned determined to look good in my bridesmaid dress in August for my sister-in-law's wedding. Considering that if I were to get down to just over my fighting weight from high school, I'd have to lose almost sixty pounds...and in one year, that's just too much.

2. Start back to school. When I first started college, I was sure I wanted to be a criminal psychologist. I took two semesters of psychology, and got tired of listening to people complain about everything. But after twelve years, I've learned that most people just need someone to listen to them, and they work their shit out on their own. Within the last six months, it's what I'm leaning towards. I don't think I could be a teacher anymore. Kids are rotten ass punk wannabe goth/metal/preppy heads who think they are the coolest shiz around. Dude, you're as delusional as I am thinking that I'll ever be famous for writing/singing/being the first commercial underwater basketweaver/psychologist (don't ask where that came from, cause I sure as shit don't know).

3. Finish a fucking book. Not reading one, Dear Readers. Writing. I have approximately eleven stories in various stages of completion, and I'm stuck on all of them. I read back through what I've written, and even two and three ... later, most of the parts can still make me laugh or cry or whatever I felt when I wrote it for the first time.

Three. Three Resolutions are good, right? Right?? Fuck calling them 'resolutions.' They're my goals, dammit. Goals sounds so much better. Best thing you can do in soccer is score a goal, right? Right.

My Three Goals. 

Sounds like a sitcom that only made it to the pilot episode.

Heepwah, and be safe out there.

Editor's Note:
I did this, not thinking of the Fourth Challenge from {W}rite of Passage. 
"Anything about resolutions will do. Do you believe in them? Have you ever done them? Beliefs? Success? Goals?"

Pit your resolutions against these:

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Be safe out there.