So, two days into the new year, and what do you think I've been doing? Conducting the approximately 8 years of research on my novel? Washing the 20 articles of hand-wash only clothing (dear god, why do I have such high-maintenance taste in clothing? It's KOHLS, for chrissakes)? Throwing myself with massive dedication into Operation Get Skinnier than Jim? At the very least, reading something in the condescendingly self-help genre?
Oh-ho. One can only wish.
The fact of it is, my ass is fused to my mattress. And my recently-dyed red mop of hair is leaking and ruining my Pottery Barn Euro Sham. (Turns out I don't care much for my duvet set, so I don't complain too much.) I'm into, like, Day 15 of Epic Sinus Infection of 2011, and I am perilously close to losing the will to live. So forget trying to keep any of my resolutions. Instead, I've been almost a complete layabout, watching Eat Pray Love and reading the Julie/Julia Project and Pioneer Woman blogs.
Shit. 2011 is going to be the Year of Vicarious Living, darn it.
All is not completely lost. I did cuddle my cat Austen a fair amount, stowed away a lot of the Christmas stuff, vacuumed, swept, did dishes, and folded laundry. I even bathed. That's a LOT to ask of a sick girl! And I'm not done, either. I shall do more laundry, and paint my nails, and maybe file some papers. And then I am going to fix a vodka tonic and the last of the gumbo and get ambitious and fuse my ass to the couch.
Whatever 2011 will be, I fear that 2011 is not be the Year of Ambitious Living.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Saturday, January 1, 2011
All is Quiet on New Year's Day
They say to be careful of what you're doing at New Year's, because you'll do it all year...
If that's the case, I will be spending the entire year laying on the couch, sick with a sinus infection...but I will also be spending it pleasantly buzzed, chatting it up with my new friend Missi (nickname: Missile) while Himself watches movies blasting on the surround sound.
There are worse ways to bring in the New Year, indeed.
After staying up far too late, talking far too long, and drinking far too much champagne and wine (but damn, that Manina Cabernet, Vintage 2009--can 2009 be vintage, or am I being pretentious?--was good!), I tumbled into bed and passed out. This morning I woke up to a legendarily gorgeous desert morning and set to work; I was expecting friends over for a Vision Board Party, and there was precious little time to prepare the house...
...Yes, that's right, a vision board party, you read that right. It's a combination of an idea ganked from Rhonda Byrne's The Secret, and my friend, Sailor-Lovin' Shauna. She had a vision board party once, the idea stuck with me, and now lo and behold, I now actually have enough friends that were game for it.
So we laughed, we drank more champagne, we cut and paste and encouraged each other and eventually, the first day of the new year passed and four of us ended up having poster
boards with representations of our desires and goals for the year. And the entire time, as I was snorting and snotting and sniffing and blowing my nose, I was also secretly reveling in this lovely way to spend New Year's Day.
My boss made a remark to me last week, something along the lines of, "You're putting down roots here, like it or not." And she's right. As evidenced by the fact that I finally got one of my sisters out here to visit me, as evidenced by the fact that I have all of these people in my life, as evidenced by the fact that I consider my colleagues my family, as evidenced by the fact that I am going into my third year living in the same city (that has not happened since I was in my early 20s), I am indeed settling down. I think that's what 2011 is going to be for me, the year of Roots. They are going to grow deeper.
And I am going to grow happier.
If that's the case, I will be spending the entire year laying on the couch, sick with a sinus infection...but I will also be spending it pleasantly buzzed, chatting it up with my new friend Missi (nickname: Missile) while Himself watches movies blasting on the surround sound.
There are worse ways to bring in the New Year, indeed.
After staying up far too late, talking far too long, and drinking far too much champagne and wine (but damn, that Manina Cabernet, Vintage 2009--can 2009 be vintage, or am I being pretentious?--was good!), I tumbled into bed and passed out. This morning I woke up to a legendarily gorgeous desert morning and set to work; I was expecting friends over for a Vision Board Party, and there was precious little time to prepare the house...
...Yes, that's right, a vision board party, you read that right. It's a combination of an idea ganked from Rhonda Byrne's The Secret, and my friend, Sailor-Lovin' Shauna. She had a vision board party once, the idea stuck with me, and now lo and behold, I now actually have enough friends that were game for it.
So we laughed, we drank more champagne, we cut and paste and encouraged each other and eventually, the first day of the new year passed and four of us ended up having poster
boards with representations of our desires and goals for the year. And the entire time, as I was snorting and snotting and sniffing and blowing my nose, I was also secretly reveling in this lovely way to spend New Year's Day.
My boss made a remark to me last week, something along the lines of, "You're putting down roots here, like it or not." And she's right. As evidenced by the fact that I finally got one of my sisters out here to visit me, as evidenced by the fact that I have all of these people in my life, as evidenced by the fact that I consider my colleagues my family, as evidenced by the fact that I am going into my third year living in the same city (that has not happened since I was in my early 20s), I am indeed settling down. I think that's what 2011 is going to be for me, the year of Roots. They are going to grow deeper.
And I am going to grow happier.
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