At 12:01 am, on January 1st, you wouldn’t have found me hastily scribbling incoherent drunken ramblings of things I ought to do in the coming year. I don't do New Year's resolutions. To me, they're just a disappointment waiting to happen. I mean, come on. Do I really want to try and live up to "I promise not to indulge in hair rage even when my hair insists on impersonating a French poodle for eight months out of the year"? Or, "I promise to stop referring to those folks who wouldn't have a clue even if it bit them in the ass as 'stupid people'?" Or here's a good one: "I promise not to kick my personal trainer when he's rolling on the floor in a fit of giggles because I've told him my last work out hurt so badly I couldn't remove my OWN bra!" Face it. I'm going to break at least one brush this coming year. I'm going to refer to at least one person as being stupid when they do something that's... well. Stupid. And my personal trainer? Okay, I won't kick him - but only out of self-preservation. And because he’s really cute. But the giggling has to stop. It’s just not Manly.

Instead of resolutions, I like to sift through the previous year's detritus and note all of the wonderful things that happened, the not-so-wonderful things that happened, and those things which should have happened… but, because I’m a procrastination demon, didn’t. Let’s not forget the things that did happen, but shouldn’t have.

This past year:

  • I finished an outline (finally!) and then successfully waded through NaNoWriMo’s 2005 Writing Challenge and wrote 52k words towards my novel. I got a nifty certificate. Woo Hoo! I’d have to note that at the top of my list. Anyone who can write 50k words while juggling a pre-teen, a 1st grader, a husband, and a full-time day job deserves some kudos. I would have liked a nifty t-shirt but I’ll take the certificate.
  • I managed to survive, somewhat unscathed, countless dramas brought on by my own and my family’s genetic disposition to overreact and over dramatize everything like a henhouse full of Chicken Little’s decrying that the sky is most certainly falling. For sure. This. Time. As a matter of fact… it only fell once. But damn it, I survived it.
  • I did not lose weight this year. While part of me wants to throw myself to the floor in a kicking, screaming temper tantrum over that… the other part says, “Fuck it.” I did join a gym and learned that all the thigh muscles I had from riding horses as a kid aren’t half as bad off as I’d thought. Indeed, I still own some kick ass strong legs. There’s that. My arms. See them jiggle… watch them wiggle… There’s much work to be done there. We won’t even discuss my ass.
  • I explored the strange, strange world of self-control. I didn’t always succeed but I managed to stay On the self-control wagon more than I fell Off it. I think some of those close to me are more thankful for this than others.
  • I Finally bonded with one of my sisters. I have three but my relationship with the one closest in age to me has always been fraught with scrapping and squabbling. We took a 16 hour road trip to Kentucky for the annual Rolex 3-Day Event. I only tried to kill her once and that was on the way home. I lurve her, even if she was dropped on our doorstep by Gypsies.
  • My sister, Pod, and her husband, Green Giant, brought forth a little Pea, in November. I’m a new Auntie! Now if I could only convince them to move from Hurricane Central so I can lay hands on that little bundle of joy. I’m hoping to visit sometime this Spring.
  • I managed to retrieve Patience from the woods for at least part of the year. Unfortunately, she ran away again, taking Grace with her. I highly suspect Folly joined them out there for a threesome. It would explain why I didn’t find spraining my ankle (yet again) due to not looking where I was walking (because I was in a hurry) to be funny.
  • I have not ridden my horse since April. I have many excuses for this but the truth: She’s green and I’m starting to think I might be too old for the rodeo impersonations and the extreme sport of ground smacking. I have not given up hope. Those three defectors – Patience, Grace, and Folly would really come in handy here.

So, this year… no promises but plenty of goals: I’m going to work as hard as I can to finish my current WIP (work in progress) by March. Then, I hope to start on two others which are yammering away in the back of my brain. I’m going to try writing more short essays while attempting to reconstruct my brain from spurting epic rambling to delivering concise prose. My first blogging effort proves how much work this will require. I hope to somehow find time to get back in the saddle, hit the gym at least three days a week, and keep practicing self-control. Perhaps I might even send a rescue party to find Patience, Grace, and Folly. At least Folly. I like him. My new thing to try this year? Blogging. So far, so good.

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1 Response
  1. Anonymous Says:

    If you put your mind to it you can do anything!!! luv ya sis!