In with a whimper

Happy New Year! I hope the first three days of 2010 were awesome. I hope you were one of those deservedly smug people up before 6 on the first day of the year, doing your calisthenics and looking forward to that big, refreshing glass of beet juice you like to reward yourself with on special occasions.

Me? I wouldn't know much about those first three days. I did see 6 o'clock on the first day of the year. Just the pinkish hint of it before I dropped off to sleep, the glitter from my cheek making a smear like the milky way across my pillow.

That's right people, I, 39-year-old, type-A, mother-of-two-with-mini-van shook it all night long.

Seeing as I value sleep over almost all other things, it's been, um, maybe 20 years since I've stayed up all night. Maybe 22.

from here

I blame the karaoke machine, which functioned as a sort of vortex, spewing out tunes from the'80s and sucking us right into the void. I totally ruined my hairdo singing AC/DC with a butch lesbian named Five Star. It was that kind of night.

Anyhoo, I'm finally back to normal, after three days of catching up on sleep in fitful bouts between building block towers, reading The Day I Became a Pirate, and dressing and redressing Maggie's new doll, Gingerbread.

I was so tired I would have gladly slept here

I'm going to skip the resolutions this year because I've made enough lists lately and, as everyone knows, resolutions exist to make you feel bad about yourself (here are last year's. I succeeded with number 2). Resolutions are the pursed-lipped headmistress of your own little uptight English boarding school of the mind. They tsk and cluck and whap you on the back with a ruler for not sitting up straight. Who needs them?

I also have no real plans. I'm going to start blogging about fat people on TV here starting this week. I'm going to celebrate my 40th in Mexico with a lot of friends and family in February. I'm going to take my kids to the snow (see #13). I might attend a clothing swap at the end of the month. Maybe I'll finally paint the bathroom door that we scraped fours years ago.

This is certainly a worthy resolution

But, really 2010, I'm open. Bring it on. Keep it coming. Have at me. All I ask is that you play fair. And keep me away from karaoke machines.

Just make the bed: simpler New Years resolutions

I think I messed up.  I have no gift for resolutions.  I mean, how am I supposed to measure whether or not I'm being nicer than the situation calls for?  It's certainly something to keep in mind, but as a resolution it's sort of dumb.

And number 4?  The one about my career?  That's just a cop out. 

So here it goes, my revised 2009 resolutions inspired by other, more gifted resolution makers like the folks at Apartment Therapy and Andrea of Hula Seventy.  Those people know how to make lists!

1. Lose fifteen pounds (I'm nothing if not consistent).

2. Replace my closet doors with long curtains made of beautiful fabric. 

3. Make the bed everyday.

The new and improved number 4. Write five pages of fiction every week

5. Say or do one nice thing for The Mister each day.  This can be as simple as pouring the morning coffee.

This is so much better, don't you think?  I'm going to print it out an post it above my desk. And that right there is resolution number 6.

Please write and tell me your resolutions.  I just adore self-improvement.

A thing I like

Okay, now that I am BUYING NOTHING until April, I keep coming up with a million things I just love and have to have.  In some weird way, though, it's sort of fun not to get them.  It's the same feeling I got registering for wedding gifts—like a virtual shopping spree.  All of the retail high, none of the money.  Still, I'm keeping a list.  Which in and of itself takes a lot of the pressure off buying.  Here's the first thing: a gold pouf from Tazi Designs.  Beautiful, no?