Like everyone else on this earth, or at least in the blogosphere, I'd dearly love to say that my three New Year's Resolutions are:
1) Be a more patient and creative mother to my daughter
2) Be a kinder, more loving and understanding partner
3) Lose weight.
Blah blah blah, wouldn't we all, yawn, snore, zzzzzz. And if you reviewed those plans by December (or even next weekend) they'd be as forgotten as an overweight Idol winner.
Instead I think it's better to save myself the agony and guilt of so obviously failing and develop some alternative - and more importantly achievable - resolutions. Actually I'm not even sure if they're achievable because I've made them many times before and yet, here I am again:
* Stop picking at my nails. My actual nails are left in relative peace but the cuticles around them look like red fringing on a 1920s murder victim. It is a vicious circle: I see a bit of flaky skin, peel it back to neaten the edge of the nail and sometimes go too far, drawing blood. This later heals and grows more raggedy skin which I peel back to neaten up only to find that I've pulled it too far and it bleeds and ......
* Re-volunteer at Sapphire's School. 2007 was largely spent taking my own advice which was to not over-do the helping out at school as an unpaid slave to assuage my guilt at working full time. I only ran three market stalls, didn't do the fresh cherry deliveries at Christmas and even ~ this is so scandalous I can't believe I'm writing this ~~ attended the end-of-year concert and didn't help set it up or put the chairs away afterwards. It felt as good and as naughty as inhaling a box of Lindt balls on my own, but the slack sands have finally dropped to the bottom of the hourglass. This year I will do at least one thing at the school every week, even if it's just picking up the papers that have blown against the fence on the back oval where Dogadoo and I do our runs.
* Avoid looking directly into my tissue after blowing into it. Whilst it is possible to lower (or even eradicate) social standards when on my own, I must avoid having a gander in my hankie out in public. This will be extremely difficult seeing as it's been a lifelong fascination to mull over my own mucus and has unfortunately become an ingrained habit, much like reducing my cuticles to curtains.
* Go to karate classes more regularly. Sadly, after 18 months of irregular attendance, I am still a yellow belt and show about as much promise of graduating to orange as a Hilton sister has of spelling the word. Yes, it's my own damn fault and again yes, as if the sensei was going to fall over in amazement at my crotch punches, exclaiming, 'Hey Fifth Dan - we have a natural here, and she's only been to six classes this entire year!' Attending at least once a week rather than bi-monthly will no doubt help things.
* Write something for money. Well at least for more than the six pounds sterling per article I get for my fastidiously researched reviews at Chocablog. Something akin to a dole cheque or mortgage interest payment would be nice. It's either that or doing (comical) favours in bus shelters during school hours or being the 'unattended baggage' detonator at international airports. Anything other than working for a boss, being a boss or having to be at an office five days a week within a 2km radius of a boss would be acceptable if money is involved.
* Embrace fashion. This will be the most challenging resolution to keep seeing as I never embraced the muffin-top low-rise look and can't pull off the twelfth month of pregnancy smock look either. I'm clinging onto the peasant skirt (flattering for thunder-thighed gals), 3/4 length long-shorts or short-pants and black. Everything black. It's time for me to discover colour, cut and style - if only in my hair.
* Plan something 'different' - and yet affordable - for my fortieth birthday. Taking Love Chunks and Sapphire to Paris and Italy might not be a go-er; nor a fortnight in Hawaii and Christmas in New York, alas. Sky-diving and bungy-jumping have already been 'done' but I have next-to-no urge for hot-air ballooning, para-gliding or sailing my own yacht. A new car instead of a themed, catered dress-up party? Not likely; the '96 Magna still has legs on her, despite being dustier than a camel's arse. Will keep pondering inventive (and thrifty) party ideas for the next eleven months...
Notice I left out 'eat less chocolate' and 'stop humiliating Love Chunks via this blog' as, let's face it, they're never going to be considered, let alone successful.
7 comments:
I can relate to a few of those. I'd love to earn real money for my writing but can't see that happening in the near (or far) future.
My own, one and only, New Year's Resolution is to find a friend who happens to live in a penthouse with Harbour views. Damn it, this is the year I see those amazing fireworks first hand!
As far as celebrating your 40th... how about flying up to Sydney to help me celebrate mine. I am going slightly over the top! Expect an invite in the mail shortly.
Thanks for reminding ME that I will also turn 40 this year!
No plans to celebrate it though - we don't do birthdays....
I didn't bother celebrating 40, but I did make plans for my 50th. I planned on 2 weeks at Eco Village on Mission Beach, Qld. Sadly, by then I was unemployed and when I finally took the one job available (the one job I had promised myself never to do), the savings had been eaten up in rent and groceries. Ho hum, roll on 60.
For your 40th why not have a surprise party, were everyone brings food but no-one says what they're bringing, that's the surprise part.
I didn't bother with resolutions either. I know I'll just break them all. Well done for at least trying not to look into the snotty depths of a dead bunny though. It's entirely natural, especially when you've got a cold and the contents are likely to be green with bones >:)
Resolutions. Humph. Waste of time. Good intentions and all that get lost the moment you are under the hammer for anything - that's when the real YOU comes out, and leads to the things you know you screwed up and want to change by those resolutions. :)
Oh, I love your nail resolution. I am besotted by my nails - the best thing I ever did was stop biting them. Now I can't go a day without clicking them against a hard surface in the whole 'oooh, look at my nails!' type-way.
You wont regret it. Best of luck!
PS: I could never stay off chocolate either.
"I only ran three market stalls" - sorry, this does in fact classify you as Saint. Three? Where did you find time to make that many coconut slices?
"Avoid looking directly into my tissue after blowing into it." Just received word from HQ that this is the most hilarious thing you've ever said. I love the way you consider the implications and thoughtfully add the disclaimer 'but only in public'. Class act you are love. x
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