Monday, December 30, 2002

Ya Say You Wanna Resolution?

I will call him on his bullshit.

And by "him" I mean, of course, "me".

I will finally accept that I am not going to spontaneously develop a "six-pack" and will therefore start going to the gym regularly again to do something besides pay my bill.

No matter how tempting -- in a "driving-slowly-past-a-horrific-car-accident" way -- it is, I will not watch Joe Millionaire.

I will flirt with straight boys less.

But more productively.

I will make at least one meal each week that does not rely on the microwave and vacuum-packed foodstuffs.

I will pretend not to care what my TiVo thinks of me.

I will be true to my school.

I will try to stop ribbing Mark about his singing. Unless, you know, he actually does it.

I will try to stop relating every single thing that happens in my day-to-day life to "that one episode of Star Trek where...".

I will acknowledge that "embracing change" does not mean hugging a stripper whose G-string is stuffed with singles.

I will smile more, and with good reason.

When people ask me what I do, I will not assume they mean professionally and will talk about my passions and hobbies more.

I won't let what he wrote bother me or stop me from taking chances. He didn't really know me then, and I didn't really give him a fair shake in the aftermath.

I will start taking tap dancing lessons. Again.

I will make my bed. At least once.

I will stop referring to Jeff's fashion sense as "committing random acts of blindness."

I will develop a retirement plan more sophisticated than "win Powerball jackpot at age 66."

I will tell fewer lies of omission.

I will leave before last call. Sometimes.

I will endeavor to dress better. And undress slower.

I won't let my friends down.

And by "friends", I mean me, too.