{photo courtesy of color_line}
My personal, non-negotiable rules for a smashing 2010:
- rule #1: Completely eradicate high-fructose corn syrup, MSG, & anything partially hydrogenated from your diet.
- rule #2: Figure out what to do with Ask Apricot to expand it more; otherwise… destroy it. [Please take a moment to read my very heartfelt post at Ask Apricot, & tell me how to keep it going.]
- rule #3: Do Wii Fit workouts regularly; otherwise… go on hikes with Jonathan once a week.
- rule #4: See your local blogger friends more often, & not just for special occasions.
- rule #5: Appreciate wine. Learn to accept the fact that wine is NOT your forté, in taste & in preference.
- rule #6: Have more sex.
- rule #7: Seek photography as more than a fuck-around hobby. Perhaps take a class at the college.
- rule #8: Read more books, watch less news.
- rule #9: Master the art (& elegance) of wearing red lipstick on a weekly basis.
- rule #10: Get a real job (find a real purpose); otherwise… stop brooding about being a housewife.
- rule #11: Shave your head, & broadcast it on this blog.***
- rule #12: Get two more tattoos; one in dedication to your mother & the other to your sister.
- rule #13: Shop at thrift stores for clothes more than you buy at major retail stores.
- rule #14: Be more patient & understanding with Jonathan; stop trying to change him, & appreciate him.
- rule #15: Take more vacations. Go on a road-trip.
- rule #16: Spend less time caring [see: obsessing] about what you’re wearing daily.
*** Maybe.
————
Typically, my new year’s festivities are quiet & comfortable (although I truly wish I could go to a real New Year’s Eve party & celebrate rambunctiously). Jonathan & I will no doubt be donning our pajamas for most of the day, watching movies, playing video games, & lousing about the house, while snacking too much. As the hours slowly creep toward midnight, we’ll do our damnedest to try to stay awake. There will be no hats, no horns, no confetti, & no firecrackers, because we procrastinated & they’re all sold out by now. But we’ll shout a celebratory “WOO!” at the top of our lungs outside our windows, & perhaps improvise by banging pots & pans together. & then… we’ll retire to bed to sleep off the excitement.
The next day — January 1st — will be spent stranded at home, because the dreaded, obnoxious Rose Parade will be taking place for six hours a few blocks away from our apartment. The roads will be closed off, traffic will be backed up, & there will be a clusterfuck of people on every street corner… all because they want to sit in the cold to see 30 ft. piñatas drive past them at 2mph. (Some have even started to camp out on the sidewalks to get the perfect seats.) I’d rather die than be caught up in that mess, so I’ll stay indoors, watch a bit of the parade on television (only to see if anything exciting happens, like a float crumbles to the ground mid-flight, or catches fire), & then thank the stars I am away from all the ruckus.
(Am I the only one who thinks parades are über lame? They absolutely bore me to tears. Or maybe I’m just a grouch.)
With every start of the new year, I go into cleaning hyperdrive. I think it’s bad luck to start the new year with the previous years’ dirt. So I’ll be doing laundry, washing the bed linens, washing my hair, dusting, cleaning out my closet, taking a bath, shaving my legs, taking off old nail polish, etc. Not even Sofie is safe from this superstition. She will be getting a bath, as well. This blog might even undergo some changes, however small.