Whew! Holiday Hiatus over. Bright, new, shiny year now firmly in place. What to write, what to write? Well. This time of year clings firmly to the cliched making of the Resolution List, and seeing as how I love me a good list, who am I to argue with convention? Except that my list will be way more awesome and articulate than most other ones. Apart from yours, of course. Yours is fantastic, too.
- Go Vegan. For a week. – I started this approximately 30 hours ago, and it hasn’t gotten easier yet. As a Southern girl who can put away the weight of my child in cheese at a single sitting, this is a tough one. But I wanted to start the year off not only with a sort of “cleansey” type thing, but also to symbolize, at least to myself, that I am tough enough to pull myself through whatever tough stuff comes my way this year. And that I am also apparently some sort of dairy masochist deep down inside. [I may or may not try to do a vegetarian week each month... I'm still deciding on that one...]
- Do at least one thing I have Pinned on Pinterest each month.- This is a modest goal. I made it this way so that if I get a measly two things accomplished I can be all like “Look at me! I totally doubled my goal! I shall reward myself with a glass of wine.” (Although we all know I’ll have that glass of wine regardless.) To get this off with a bang, today I’m starting some broth from our leftover roasted chicken carcass. Mmm, carcass. I’ll have to wait until Monday to taste it though. : /
- Reduce our constant clutter by one quarter.- We’re moving. Again. If you know anything about us, you know that in our house we like English Bulldogs, tattoos, books and moving before our milk has a chance to expire. I realized last year that we have LITERALLY never watched the season premiere of True Blood in the same house two years in a row. That blew my mind *explosion sound effect*. You’d think we’d be good at it. You’d think we’d have streamlined, living out of monochromatic Rubbermaid boxes and never falling in love with things we see at garage sales. You’d get laughed right out of this soon-to-be-old house. We have a lot of shit. Tons. Way too much. Dustin’s problem is he has issues and can’t pass up a good deal. My problem is I have issues and get way too attached to anything and everything. Shelby’s problem is she doesn’t have any issues yet, she’s just the only child of the family and is too cute not to own every toy ever made in all of everdom. And that was before we celebrated no less than five separate Christmases last month. I need to just roll up my sleeves, get a box of tissues and either trash or donate a lot of stuff. I’m tired of falling victim to that very familiar feeling of “f*ck it” once we’ve gotten almost everything packed, but I then have to go through Shelby’s artwork and all the crap inside the file cabinet and desk and then just say “f*ck it,” throw it all in boxes and go. We just lug this junk everywhere. Our new place is smaller by about a third, but it’s a beautiful log cabin with a great yard. I don’t want to ruin it’s rustic charm with crap no one has ever needed, just because I “might use it for a project” one day. I was actually really looking forward to getting a jump on this today (or at least drinking coffee and making a list of what I need to do), and while Dustin is at work, that evil, horrible, very bad, no good school of Shelby’s is out until tomorrow. Too late! Motivation lost! You’ll be seeing me on Hoarders: Louisiana Wilderness Edition.
- Get Fit.- I know, I just totally blew your minds with that one. Such originality! Gag. I hate to be That Girl. And while, yes, I’d like to lose 70 pounds and make all the other moms at school talk bad about me, I’ve found that focusing on that hasn’t done me any favors in the past. And yes, I have proclaimed (behind closed doors) that 2011 will have been the last fat year of my life, I can’t cry it from the rooftop with any certainty. I don’t like making statements that will come back to bite me in the ass. If, however, it comes back to bite me in my slightly smaller ass this time next year, that’d be great. I’ll never be a Skinny Minnie. I’m tall, I have broad shoulders and hip bones that, even now, under all my fluff, can be easily felt, and even occasionally seen when I lay down. Do I eat too much- I’m too good a cook not to. Do I exercise too little- Huh? Do I have any health problems- No, thank God. I just want to not despise myself. I want to like myself as much as my friends do. Which is a lot. ‘Cause I’m awesome. I’m just fat. And I’d like to change that a little bit.
- Update this blog E-V-E-R-Y day.- It was getting too heavy up in herr. No pun intended. But yeah, I need to update the blog more regularly. And betterly. I really am embarrassed that all I’ve been doing is bitching and listing. I promise to find better things to link to (like this! This is great. Especially Ebates, I adore Ebates.), and to be more vigilant in writing about cheap and groovy recipes, new ways to get stuff done and awesome DIY’s I’ve done to rub in your faces. I find it makes for a much better day. So I’m really making this one out of selfishness, because it’s not about the readers. It’s about me. IT’S ALL ABOUT ME!
- Decide what I want, what I want to be and where I’m going, then get it, be it and go there.- Again with the heavy. It’s overdone, but it’s true. I have this profound need to wade through my consciousness, reevaluate my life and decided what stays and what goes. And I’m not even talking about that big pile of papers over there giving me the evil eye. I mean the real stuff, the intangible stuff. I’ve just been coasting for the last near-decade (and really, the majority of my life). Going along, getting along, getting by, taking care of everyone else. And it’s not that I don’t want to do that anymore- because if there are two things I don’t just completely suck at it’s being a mom and being a wife- it’s just that I want to start taking care of me, too. I don’t really know what that means or what it entails. I don’t even know what I want, let alone how to get it. I’m pretty good at picking out and picking apart the things about myself and life I don’t like. I’m less skilled at doing something about it. Taking action. I’ve always had circumstances or situations that kept me from doing that. Good reasons and excellent excuses. No money. No childcare. No time. I can’t change those things but I can figure out a way around them or over them or under them. I guess. I don’t know. I’m new to this whole Sacagawea way of thinking. But I’ll let you know how it works out.
- Balls.- No, my last resolution is not about sports (why? What were you thinking?). I just don’t like the number 6 that much. Five is my favorite. Seven? He’s ok. And I love saying seeeveeeeeeeeen! like on those old mobile phone commercials. So my 7th resolution is to keep being my nerdy, strange, none-useful-OCD self. (Just a less cluttered, more focused, more frequently updating, craftier, skinnier version)!
And also to grow my hair out. I’m doing that too.
What about youse guys? Any resolutions or anti-resolutions you’d care to share?