My New Year's Resolutions
1. I resolve to lose 2 to 4 pounds this year. (May as well keep expectations reasonable)
2. I resolve to have more sex and "talk about my feelings" less.
3. I resolve to not think about smoking one way or another.
4. I resolve to always cuss slightly less than whomever I am with, so I can maintain an air of moral superiority.
5. I resolve to never say, "I think the President is handling things very well."
6. I resolve to invent a borderline personality disorder detector one can wear on a belt or key ring.
7. I resolve to fall in love with the perfect woman this year.
8. I resolve to avoid any close contact with Geminis this year.
9. I resolve to stop ending so many sentences with "ey?"
10. I resolve to get my oil changed soon.
11. I resolve to put lotion on my elbows more often.
12. I resolve to go on at least one cool vacation with a fairly sane person.
13. I resolve to avoid creepy people who suck me emotionally dry this year.
14. I resolve to be as happy as I can, as often as I can.
15. I resolve to make $20,000 more than I did last year.
Monday, December 31, 2001
Happy New Year!
The omens are there.
This morning after a friend treated me to breakfast, I bought a scratch off lottery ticket and won five bucks. Then in the mail one of my VISA card companies refunded $20 in credit I had. Then I found out I got a raise from one of my monthly income sources.
Wait, there's more!
I can't exactly talk about it yet, but suffice it to say I am working on an exciting new project that holds many potential rewards ...and the pay promises to be quite a nice chunk, with extra incentives thrown in if I work fast.
It looks like it'll take about 3.5 months to fully mount this project, but so far the creative exchange has been deeply fulfilling, and the client seems eager to see what I have to offer.
After taking a few months off to regroup, all I can say is it'll feel good to get back in the saddle again.
Happy New Year, everyone!
The omens are there.
This morning after a friend treated me to breakfast, I bought a scratch off lottery ticket and won five bucks. Then in the mail one of my VISA card companies refunded $20 in credit I had. Then I found out I got a raise from one of my monthly income sources.
Wait, there's more!
I can't exactly talk about it yet, but suffice it to say I am working on an exciting new project that holds many potential rewards ...and the pay promises to be quite a nice chunk, with extra incentives thrown in if I work fast.
It looks like it'll take about 3.5 months to fully mount this project, but so far the creative exchange has been deeply fulfilling, and the client seems eager to see what I have to offer.
After taking a few months off to regroup, all I can say is it'll feel good to get back in the saddle again.
Happy New Year, everyone!
Sunday, December 30, 2001
Sunday Afternoon
Odd thing.
I've had three calls today from three separate tribes, inviting me out for a pre-New Years bar hop-around. I guess people are into practicing for getting drunk on New Year's Eve, but I just can't get into it.
Besides, the cops have ruined getting drunk anymore.
They have taken away the time honored Texas tradition of having open containers in our cars, and they are ultra picky about drunk driving nowadays.
Okay, I am sorry if I am being cavalier, and I am sure at least someone reading this had lost someone to a drunken idiot behind the wheel, but I don't mean those guys.
What I mean is it's not fun to go out and drink anymore.
One glass of Merlot with dinner and you might get tagged with a DUI on the way home.
If you refuse to blow for the cops, they take your license anyway.
If the vice angels came to me and said I had to give up liquor or chocolate, I'd give up liquor.
My best friend Anna is a recovering alkie, for 15 years now. I never have to worry about her calling me drunk, her getting sloppy and puking on my couch, or her assigning her emotional debris to me for disposal. That AA program seems to turn out pretty fair minded people who know what the fuck is going on.
I am thinking seriously of spending NYE with her, not drinking, just hanging out.
Then when I leave after midnight, all I have to worry about is dodging drunk drivers and not getting pulled over by the cops for Driving While Sleepy.
Odd thing.
I've had three calls today from three separate tribes, inviting me out for a pre-New Years bar hop-around. I guess people are into practicing for getting drunk on New Year's Eve, but I just can't get into it.
Besides, the cops have ruined getting drunk anymore.
They have taken away the time honored Texas tradition of having open containers in our cars, and they are ultra picky about drunk driving nowadays.
Okay, I am sorry if I am being cavalier, and I am sure at least someone reading this had lost someone to a drunken idiot behind the wheel, but I don't mean those guys.
What I mean is it's not fun to go out and drink anymore.
One glass of Merlot with dinner and you might get tagged with a DUI on the way home.
If you refuse to blow for the cops, they take your license anyway.
If the vice angels came to me and said I had to give up liquor or chocolate, I'd give up liquor.
My best friend Anna is a recovering alkie, for 15 years now. I never have to worry about her calling me drunk, her getting sloppy and puking on my couch, or her assigning her emotional debris to me for disposal. That AA program seems to turn out pretty fair minded people who know what the fuck is going on.
I am thinking seriously of spending NYE with her, not drinking, just hanging out.
Then when I leave after midnight, all I have to worry about is dodging drunk drivers and not getting pulled over by the cops for Driving While Sleepy.
Friday, December 28, 2001
iMac Horrors
I have an iMac, a nice sort of turquoise/aqua model.
She's moody when I try to reconfigure anything on her, so I pretty much leave her as is and trust that she'll give me what I want, when I want it.
After this morning's rounds of e-mail and IM's, I logged off and wandered away.
When I returned a few hours later, the screen was gray.
That was cool, it just meant she was napping.
So I rattled her mouse and nothing happened. Then I reset her and nothing happened. Then I reset three more times and nothing happened.
In a panic (since my computer tech told me just three days ago her iMac was in the Mac hospital with a nasty case of blackscreen) I just flipped off the switch on my surge protector, flipped it back on and presto, she was on again.
I made three signs of the cross in gratitude, and commenced with my online bidness.
I can't remember what I promised God I'd give up in return for her coming on again, so I guess I'll go with orange soda, lima beans and broccoli.
Meanwhile, my year is ending happily.
I dreamed that my ex wanted to come back to me and I said no and meant it this time.
Finally letting her go must be like how it feels when a heroin addict finally stops puking and sweating and trembling from withdrawal.
She was, afterall, a bad addiction for me. But I don't feel the tug anymore.
I have an iMac, a nice sort of turquoise/aqua model.
She's moody when I try to reconfigure anything on her, so I pretty much leave her as is and trust that she'll give me what I want, when I want it.
After this morning's rounds of e-mail and IM's, I logged off and wandered away.
When I returned a few hours later, the screen was gray.
That was cool, it just meant she was napping.
So I rattled her mouse and nothing happened. Then I reset her and nothing happened. Then I reset three more times and nothing happened.
In a panic (since my computer tech told me just three days ago her iMac was in the Mac hospital with a nasty case of blackscreen) I just flipped off the switch on my surge protector, flipped it back on and presto, she was on again.
I made three signs of the cross in gratitude, and commenced with my online bidness.
I can't remember what I promised God I'd give up in return for her coming on again, so I guess I'll go with orange soda, lima beans and broccoli.
Meanwhile, my year is ending happily.
I dreamed that my ex wanted to come back to me and I said no and meant it this time.
Finally letting her go must be like how it feels when a heroin addict finally stops puking and sweating and trembling from withdrawal.
She was, afterall, a bad addiction for me. But I don't feel the tug anymore.
Thursday, December 27, 2001
Thursday after Christmas
Okay, okay, no more haiku for a while. Jeeze.
Well, I changed my blogger password so a certain turd couldn't come in and monkey around with everything. After the Blog security hacking during Christmas, we should all consider changing passwords.
My favorite old Uncle Al died yesterday in Los Angeles.
His ticker gave out after a retirement filled with world travel, big cruises and quick trips to Vegas. He was a great guy and I'll miss him, except for his loyalty to the L.A. Lakers. Last time I talked to him, he was on his cell phone in a car, calling me to rub it in that his Lakers had just beaten my Spurs. It may sound irreverent, but to us it was a tender, meaningful moment. Godspeed, Uncle Al.
Meanwhile, my friend I've been fretting about broke up with her moocher girlfriend over the holidays. She's gonna be fine, I know, she's got tons of support and she's very sharp.
Still, getting dumped over Christmas is a bitch. Much better to be dumped in the fall, before you Christmas shop for the slimeball.
Last time I lived with someone (a very nice woman who reads this blog) and we broke up, I found great solace in reclaiming closet space and getting the cactus plant away from my coffee maker. She found the same- she got to keep her teapot on the stove again and all her decorative kitchen doodads all over her counterspace.
She got to put the crochet doilies back on her towels in the bathroom and her potpourri all over the house in little jars. And she got to play that goddam Rippington music all she wanted, and I got my loud funk back.
Now she has a nice lover I fixed her up with and they do things together I'd never dream of wanting to do, like going camping every weekend in her travel trailer.
I get to do whatever I want with whomever I want.
So, being single again does have it's upside.
Okay, okay, no more haiku for a while. Jeeze.
Well, I changed my blogger password so a certain turd couldn't come in and monkey around with everything. After the Blog security hacking during Christmas, we should all consider changing passwords.
My favorite old Uncle Al died yesterday in Los Angeles.
His ticker gave out after a retirement filled with world travel, big cruises and quick trips to Vegas. He was a great guy and I'll miss him, except for his loyalty to the L.A. Lakers. Last time I talked to him, he was on his cell phone in a car, calling me to rub it in that his Lakers had just beaten my Spurs. It may sound irreverent, but to us it was a tender, meaningful moment. Godspeed, Uncle Al.
Meanwhile, my friend I've been fretting about broke up with her moocher girlfriend over the holidays. She's gonna be fine, I know, she's got tons of support and she's very sharp.
Still, getting dumped over Christmas is a bitch. Much better to be dumped in the fall, before you Christmas shop for the slimeball.
Last time I lived with someone (a very nice woman who reads this blog) and we broke up, I found great solace in reclaiming closet space and getting the cactus plant away from my coffee maker. She found the same- she got to keep her teapot on the stove again and all her decorative kitchen doodads all over her counterspace.
She got to put the crochet doilies back on her towels in the bathroom and her potpourri all over the house in little jars. And she got to play that goddam Rippington music all she wanted, and I got my loud funk back.
Now she has a nice lover I fixed her up with and they do things together I'd never dream of wanting to do, like going camping every weekend in her travel trailer.
I get to do whatever I want with whomever I want.
So, being single again does have it's upside.
Tuesday, December 25, 2001
Christmas Haiku
Lovely gift wrapping
Can't wait to see what's inside
Oh, a Chia pet
I waited all year
To give you this special treat
Here's your fruitcake back
Oh this is so nice
So fleecy ...and shocking pink
Sears has lovely clothes
How patriotic!
A big book by George Dubya
And look! Crayons too
How sweet of you, friend
A huge bag of catnip for
My hyper kitten
You know me so well
A gift certificate for
The Christian Bookstore
This wine must be good
They even thought to add an
Expiration date
A practical gift!
A nice, sturdy vibrator
By Black and Decker!
Lovely gift wrapping
Can't wait to see what's inside
Oh, a Chia pet
I waited all year
To give you this special treat
Here's your fruitcake back
Oh this is so nice
So fleecy ...and shocking pink
Sears has lovely clothes
How patriotic!
A big book by George Dubya
And look! Crayons too
How sweet of you, friend
A huge bag of catnip for
My hyper kitten
You know me so well
A gift certificate for
The Christian Bookstore
This wine must be good
They even thought to add an
Expiration date
A practical gift!
A nice, sturdy vibrator
By Black and Decker!
Christmas Morning
Enough with being politically correct, Merry Christmas, one and all.
I was up early for no particular reason and read some random blogs, one about a Brit girl in Los Angeles who calls herself a shitkicker. She needs to pop on over to Texas to get a clearer understanding of that term.
Dinner was great last night, except for the bad filets mignon. One bite and I knew it was spoiled, so I scooped up hers and mine, bites and all, and baggied them up to return to the store tomorrow. Cest la boeuf.
All the candy and cookies and eggnog yesterday made me so full I could barely stay awake through Ab Fab last night. Thankfully my dinner companion was just as beat and went home early. We didn't even crack open the wine she brought.
Today is freeform family Christmas- no specified time, no organized dinner, nobody is quite sure who is coming and nobody seems to be bothered by it. Suits me fine.
I just want this year to be over and start next year with a tabula rasa.
2001 was an awful year for me and for most of us.
I had endometrial cancer, major surgery, then a long, slow recovery. Bush became president. The Lakers won the NBA title. My sister had a ticket to Paris scheduled to depart September 12. She had planned to have her birthday lunch at the Ritz.
In 2001, I loved the wrong woman far too much for far too long, and then the World Trade Center thing happened. I feel like I lived the year on a rickety carnival ride that would not stop to let me off.
But I am still standing, healthy now, no more nutty girlfriend, a wonderful baby kitty boy, good friends and a loving, albeit eccentric, family.
So it is a merry Christmas, and I wish serenity to everyone who reads this.
Enough with being politically correct, Merry Christmas, one and all.
I was up early for no particular reason and read some random blogs, one about a Brit girl in Los Angeles who calls herself a shitkicker. She needs to pop on over to Texas to get a clearer understanding of that term.
Dinner was great last night, except for the bad filets mignon. One bite and I knew it was spoiled, so I scooped up hers and mine, bites and all, and baggied them up to return to the store tomorrow. Cest la boeuf.
All the candy and cookies and eggnog yesterday made me so full I could barely stay awake through Ab Fab last night. Thankfully my dinner companion was just as beat and went home early. We didn't even crack open the wine she brought.
Today is freeform family Christmas- no specified time, no organized dinner, nobody is quite sure who is coming and nobody seems to be bothered by it. Suits me fine.
I just want this year to be over and start next year with a tabula rasa.
2001 was an awful year for me and for most of us.
I had endometrial cancer, major surgery, then a long, slow recovery. Bush became president. The Lakers won the NBA title. My sister had a ticket to Paris scheduled to depart September 12. She had planned to have her birthday lunch at the Ritz.
In 2001, I loved the wrong woman far too much for far too long, and then the World Trade Center thing happened. I feel like I lived the year on a rickety carnival ride that would not stop to let me off.
But I am still standing, healthy now, no more nutty girlfriend, a wonderful baby kitty boy, good friends and a loving, albeit eccentric, family.
So it is a merry Christmas, and I wish serenity to everyone who reads this.
Monday, December 24, 2001
Christmas Eve Day: Noonish
Well, even if I tried I couldn't be in a bad mood today.
My friends Tricia and Irene just popped in with a little basket of homemade exotic cookies. I have never seen cookies like these. Cinnamon pinwheels, sage thumbprints, shortbreads, iced things, curly cue things, jam filled things, the works. How sweet was that?
Tonight I am making filet mignon, baked potatoes and salad, and my old friend Elaine is coming over to watch AbFab. She's bringing wine and lots of it, so it should be a great evening.
I read in the news some idiot boarded a plane with plastique explosives in his high top sneakers. The flight attendants and a half dozen passengers subdued him and belted him to his seat. A couple of doctors on board sedated him and another guy held a fire extinguisher to his face in case he acted up again. The news photo showed him with a shiner the size of a mini donut. I hope he has time to enter himself in the Darwin Awards, the stupid shmuck.
Wouldn't it be nice if everyone just behaved themselves one day of the year? I mean, it doesn't have to be on Christmas Day, but I just wish the world would pick one day not to be violent or nasty or sneaky or abusive or criminal or dogmatic or irritating or stingy or chicken shit.
I am going to do my part tomorrow. As I drive up to Austin, I am not going to tailgate, shoot the finger, fail to signal lane changes, or drive faster than 85 mph. Then once I get there, I am not going to use any variation of the word fuck all day and night. Even if someone gives me a fucking Chia Pet.
Well, even if I tried I couldn't be in a bad mood today.
My friends Tricia and Irene just popped in with a little basket of homemade exotic cookies. I have never seen cookies like these. Cinnamon pinwheels, sage thumbprints, shortbreads, iced things, curly cue things, jam filled things, the works. How sweet was that?
Tonight I am making filet mignon, baked potatoes and salad, and my old friend Elaine is coming over to watch AbFab. She's bringing wine and lots of it, so it should be a great evening.
I read in the news some idiot boarded a plane with plastique explosives in his high top sneakers. The flight attendants and a half dozen passengers subdued him and belted him to his seat. A couple of doctors on board sedated him and another guy held a fire extinguisher to his face in case he acted up again. The news photo showed him with a shiner the size of a mini donut. I hope he has time to enter himself in the Darwin Awards, the stupid shmuck.
Wouldn't it be nice if everyone just behaved themselves one day of the year? I mean, it doesn't have to be on Christmas Day, but I just wish the world would pick one day not to be violent or nasty or sneaky or abusive or criminal or dogmatic or irritating or stingy or chicken shit.
I am going to do my part tomorrow. As I drive up to Austin, I am not going to tailgate, shoot the finger, fail to signal lane changes, or drive faster than 85 mph. Then once I get there, I am not going to use any variation of the word fuck all day and night. Even if someone gives me a fucking Chia Pet.
Christmas Eve Day, Early Morning
I was awakened dodging kitten kisses at around 4:30 this morning.
My 4-month old kitten James has gotten into the habit of licking my face awake when he's ready for some kibble action.
I noticed about a dozen brand new kitten toys shoved to the side in favor of his new favorite toys, pecans. He likes to play pecan hockey on the kitchen floor.
Now he's precariously perched on the headrest of my computer chair, helping me groom my hair with his tongue. He's cute, but that's gross no matter who is doing it.
I was thinking about driving up to Austin today so I could spend Christmas Eve with my family. I probably won't though, we aren't that traditional and we'd just end up watching TV and nodding out early. We used to go to midnight mass when we were little and Catholic, but now my Catholicism has been reduced to collecting religious kitsch, like saints who have pinpoint laser lights flashing around their silhouettes, a 3-D holograph that turns Jesus into the Virgin Mary, a nun in a snowglobe, and a host of other heavenly doodads.
The family was supposed to have a wonderful dinner tomorrow, roasted beef tenderloin and Yorkshire pudding, but the last I heard we've switched to tamales. I am not rushing anywhere for tamales.
I would like to stay in a peaceful frame of mind today and tomorrow, so I am willfully refraining from reblogging on this idiot's blogsite, where she complains about not passing a computer test, all the while telling us how brilliant she is and how stupid the test was. People who intentionally throw in lots of technical jargon and multisyllabic, industry-specific nomenclature to seem smart just seem like blowhards to me.
This chick actually said now that she blew the test, we could consider her mortal like the rest of us. If it weren't Christmas time, the words know-it-all and asshole would spring to mind.
Also denting my Yuletide serenity is my worrying about a friend whose relationship is hitting the skids. She's not allowed to e-mail or call unless her girlfriend is away, so I remain concerned and unable to lend any support. It's really none of my business, but still I am concerned.
I was awakened dodging kitten kisses at around 4:30 this morning.
My 4-month old kitten James has gotten into the habit of licking my face awake when he's ready for some kibble action.
I noticed about a dozen brand new kitten toys shoved to the side in favor of his new favorite toys, pecans. He likes to play pecan hockey on the kitchen floor.
Now he's precariously perched on the headrest of my computer chair, helping me groom my hair with his tongue. He's cute, but that's gross no matter who is doing it.
I was thinking about driving up to Austin today so I could spend Christmas Eve with my family. I probably won't though, we aren't that traditional and we'd just end up watching TV and nodding out early. We used to go to midnight mass when we were little and Catholic, but now my Catholicism has been reduced to collecting religious kitsch, like saints who have pinpoint laser lights flashing around their silhouettes, a 3-D holograph that turns Jesus into the Virgin Mary, a nun in a snowglobe, and a host of other heavenly doodads.
The family was supposed to have a wonderful dinner tomorrow, roasted beef tenderloin and Yorkshire pudding, but the last I heard we've switched to tamales. I am not rushing anywhere for tamales.
I would like to stay in a peaceful frame of mind today and tomorrow, so I am willfully refraining from reblogging on this idiot's blogsite, where she complains about not passing a computer test, all the while telling us how brilliant she is and how stupid the test was. People who intentionally throw in lots of technical jargon and multisyllabic, industry-specific nomenclature to seem smart just seem like blowhards to me.
This chick actually said now that she blew the test, we could consider her mortal like the rest of us. If it weren't Christmas time, the words know-it-all and asshole would spring to mind.
Also denting my Yuletide serenity is my worrying about a friend whose relationship is hitting the skids. She's not allowed to e-mail or call unless her girlfriend is away, so I remain concerned and unable to lend any support. It's really none of my business, but still I am concerned.
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