Showing posts with label Happy New Year!. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Happy New Year!. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 01, 2019
I SAY I WANT SOME RESOLUTIONS
Here’s last year’s list, amended with variations of CHECK! in front of things I actually accomplished and with updated/new things I have yet to accomplish:
CHECK! I will turn 50 in April (that’s not the actual resolution—it’s just the preamble to the resolution) and to celebrate I will run every race within 100 miles that’s been on my bucket list—plus any other races I discover that sound fun—all summer, culminating in a back-to-back three-day Disney 5K/10K/half marathon in November. [UPDATE: I was sidelined by injuries for two races and I opted not to run the 10K at Disney, but I’m still giving myself full credit for accomplishing all of this. And I can run faster than you if you try to chase me down and explain to me why I didn’t.]
I will finally run the Bix 7 in the Quad Cities this July.
And you should come with me, whether you want to run or cheer or celebrate together at the after-party.
I will continue making the gym and distance running an integral part of my life. Because I’m not getting any younger or less single.
PARTIAL CHECK! I will stop thinking PB&J and Diet Coke are an acceptable dinner.
I will continue enjoying PB&J at all opportunities and I will continue eliminating Diet Coke completely from my diet (14 days and counting!)
MOSTLY CHECK! I will stop launching scorched-earth social-media fights with cousin-curious Trump supporters to the point that I make myself angry every time I open my social media and discover that they still don’t know how to lose and shut up and go away like normal morons.
I will stop losing hours scrolling mindlessly through Facebook and use my newfound free time to pursue something—anything—more productive.
I will keep myself constantly updated on the current slang and the new small talk. And use it only in irony. Because I’m 50. And an adult. I think.
PARTIAL CHECK! I will figure out how to use the universal remote I bought for our TV. [UPDATE: I made multiple attempts last year, and I got it to do everything but change channels via the number keys. PLEASE COME OVER AND HELP IF YOU’RE FLUENT IN TECHNOLOGY.]
I will start (or finish) reading all the books I bought (or received as gifts) in 2018 (or 2017) (or 2016) (or before that).
I will continue to cultivate the wonderful friendships—and keep my distance from drama—that I’ve been abundantly fortunate to have found since I moved home four years ago.
I will quickly learn the names of people I meet, especially when we do shows together. But no promises—I’m mired in a lifetime habit of convincing myself I suck at names and therefore not even trying.
ONGOING CHECK! I will get the hint and cut my losses the first time someone shows me we don’t have much of a friendship and it’s never going to go anywhere.
SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME PICK A COLOR BECAUSE I’M SERIOUSLY PARALYZED WITH INDECISION! I will bury my tinkle-colored bedroom walls in a deep, rich, handsome, masculine, adult color that I have yet to determine.
CHECK! I will nag and complain without shame or reservation until we replace our pinky-beige, mousy-blah, suburban-horror Formica countertops with something that doesn’t make me want to hide under the sink and slowly die of mousy-blah ennui hastened by poisoning from any store-brand Formica cleanser we have stored there.
I will continue to cull and integrate and sell and give away the two-bedroom-apartment contents of my storage unit ASAP so I can eliminate that $200+/month line item from my personal budget.
I will use my newfound storage-unit savings to pay for regular voice lessons [which I started in December!]
I will make practicing the piano a regular part of my weekly schedule to try and regain some of my long-dormant skills.
I will try to get a gig choreographing something smallish somewhere or finagling my way into playing in an orchestra pit somewhere. [YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. CALL ME. LET’S TALK.]
I will more regularly give myself private tap lessons from all the YouTube tap videos I’ve found.
I will stop wasting time winding up the vacuum cleaner cord.
I will scoop the cat box twice a week instead of once.
I will finally visit the local museums I’ve been woefully absent from seeing: The African-American Museum, The Czech and Slovak Library & Museum, The Masonic Library and Museums, and any others I discover.
I will work harder (notice that I’m not giving myself any form of schedules or deadlines here) to post more frequent #ArtThrob essays about my favorite works of art.
I will stop accepting Facebook friend requests from strangers just because they’re cute.
I will stop accepting Facebook friend requests from strangers just because they’re cute.
I will stop accepting Facebook friend requests from strangers just because they’re cute.
I will reduce forgetting my bipolar meds from once a month to zeroth a month.
I will avoid the New Year’s Day Rose Parade. And all other parades. Just like always. Because parades are stupid.
A few years ago I made a resolution to say or text or email something nice to somebody—longtime friend or random Internet stranger—every day. The resolution has slowly evolved to also include just texting or emailing a random hello to someone I haven’t talked to in a while and to check in almost daily with people I know are struggling with mental illnesses themselves or in their families. I’m sure I’ve missed a few days here and there, but overall it’s become a happy little daily habit that’s kept me in touch or even reconnected with people from every corner of my 50-year (ACK! How did that happen?) life (except for a handful of guys I’ve had longtime crushes on because I’d die inside whether they did or didn’t respond—and, sadly, at 50 years old (did I mention I’m 50?) I’m still kinda scared of guys I have high-school crushes on). Crippling insecurities aside, I’m renewing my daily-compliment/hello/check-in contract for yet another year. And I encourage all of you to consider trying something similar. Because it’s WAY cheaper than flowers. Or therapy. Happy 2019!
CHECK! I will turn 50 in April (that’s not the actual resolution—it’s just the preamble to the resolution) and to celebrate I will run every race within 100 miles that’s been on my bucket list—plus any other races I discover that sound fun—all summer, culminating in a back-to-back three-day Disney 5K/10K/half marathon in November. [UPDATE: I was sidelined by injuries for two races and I opted not to run the 10K at Disney, but I’m still giving myself full credit for accomplishing all of this. And I can run faster than you if you try to chase me down and explain to me why I didn’t.]
I will finally run the Bix 7 in the Quad Cities this July.
And you should come with me, whether you want to run or cheer or celebrate together at the after-party.
I will continue making the gym and distance running an integral part of my life. Because I’m not getting any younger or less single.
PARTIAL CHECK! I will stop thinking PB&J and Diet Coke are an acceptable dinner.
I will continue enjoying PB&J at all opportunities and I will continue eliminating Diet Coke completely from my diet (14 days and counting!)
MOSTLY CHECK! I will stop launching scorched-earth social-media fights with cousin-curious Trump supporters to the point that I make myself angry every time I open my social media and discover that they still don’t know how to lose and shut up and go away like normal morons.
I will stop losing hours scrolling mindlessly through Facebook and use my newfound free time to pursue something—anything—more productive.
I will keep myself constantly updated on the current slang and the new small talk. And use it only in irony. Because I’m 50. And an adult. I think.
PARTIAL CHECK! I will figure out how to use the universal remote I bought for our TV. [UPDATE: I made multiple attempts last year, and I got it to do everything but change channels via the number keys. PLEASE COME OVER AND HELP IF YOU’RE FLUENT IN TECHNOLOGY.]
I will start (or finish) reading all the books I bought (or received as gifts) in 2018 (or 2017) (or 2016) (or before that).
I will continue to cultivate the wonderful friendships—and keep my distance from drama—that I’ve been abundantly fortunate to have found since I moved home four years ago.
I will quickly learn the names of people I meet, especially when we do shows together. But no promises—I’m mired in a lifetime habit of convincing myself I suck at names and therefore not even trying.
ONGOING CHECK! I will get the hint and cut my losses the first time someone shows me we don’t have much of a friendship and it’s never going to go anywhere.
SOMEONE PLEASE HELP ME PICK A COLOR BECAUSE I’M SERIOUSLY PARALYZED WITH INDECISION! I will bury my tinkle-colored bedroom walls in a deep, rich, handsome, masculine, adult color that I have yet to determine.
CHECK! I will nag and complain without shame or reservation until we replace our pinky-beige, mousy-blah, suburban-horror Formica countertops with something that doesn’t make me want to hide under the sink and slowly die of mousy-blah ennui hastened by poisoning from any store-brand Formica cleanser we have stored there.
I will continue to cull and integrate and sell and give away the two-bedroom-apartment contents of my storage unit ASAP so I can eliminate that $200+/month line item from my personal budget.
I will use my newfound storage-unit savings to pay for regular voice lessons [which I started in December!]
I will make practicing the piano a regular part of my weekly schedule to try and regain some of my long-dormant skills.
I will try to get a gig choreographing something smallish somewhere or finagling my way into playing in an orchestra pit somewhere. [YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. CALL ME. LET’S TALK.]
I will more regularly give myself private tap lessons from all the YouTube tap videos I’ve found.
I will stop wasting time winding up the vacuum cleaner cord.
I will scoop the cat box twice a week instead of once.
I will finally visit the local museums I’ve been woefully absent from seeing: The African-American Museum, The Czech and Slovak Library & Museum, The Masonic Library and Museums, and any others I discover.
I will work harder (notice that I’m not giving myself any form of schedules or deadlines here) to post more frequent #ArtThrob essays about my favorite works of art.
I will stop accepting Facebook friend requests from strangers just because they’re cute.
I will stop accepting Facebook friend requests from strangers just because they’re cute.
I will stop accepting Facebook friend requests from strangers just because they’re cute.
I will reduce forgetting my bipolar meds from once a month to zeroth a month.
I will avoid the New Year’s Day Rose Parade. And all other parades. Just like always. Because parades are stupid.
A few years ago I made a resolution to say or text or email something nice to somebody—longtime friend or random Internet stranger—every day. The resolution has slowly evolved to also include just texting or emailing a random hello to someone I haven’t talked to in a while and to check in almost daily with people I know are struggling with mental illnesses themselves or in their families. I’m sure I’ve missed a few days here and there, but overall it’s become a happy little daily habit that’s kept me in touch or even reconnected with people from every corner of my 50-year (ACK! How did that happen?) life (except for a handful of guys I’ve had longtime crushes on because I’d die inside whether they did or didn’t respond—and, sadly, at 50 years old (did I mention I’m 50?) I’m still kinda scared of guys I have high-school crushes on). Crippling insecurities aside, I’m renewing my daily-compliment/hello/check-in contract for yet another year. And I encourage all of you to consider trying something similar. Because it’s WAY cheaper than flowers. Or therapy. Happy 2019!

Labels:
ArtThrob,
books,
choreography,
decorating,
Diet Coke,
Happy New Year!,
lists,
PB&J,
piano,
reading,
resolutions,
running,
social media,
storage,
things in italics,
voice lessons,
way too many caps
I’m still writing B.C. on my checks
I’m still writing B.C. on my checks. And I’m not even sure I’m Y2K compliant. New Years are rough for me.
Monday, December 31, 2018
I’m wearing my natty bow tie to the Kristin Chenoweth concert tonight because that’s how to make the evening extra-gay
I’m wearing my new Scream socks because my sister got them for me for Christmas and not because I’m hoping that’s the way Kristin will be singing.
Wednesday, August 01, 2018
Don't invite us to all your tedious A-list New Year's Eve parties again this year
because we're already booked to spend New Year's Eve DANCING THROUGH LIFE WITH KRISTIN CHENOWETH AT HANCHER!
Monday, January 01, 2018
Sunday, December 31, 2017
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