January 8: David Bowie turns 60 and Elvis would have been 72.

I'm really only posting something because it's been weeks -- and that's no way to keep my fan base happy [all three of you]. It's a new year, and that deserves a post . . . but about what? Hmm. Okay, brace yourselves, 'cause here's something unique: resolutions. My originality frightens me sometimes.

Things I will or will not do this year that I did too much or not enough of last year:

1. I will write every day
2. I will participate in some form of physical activity (I'm thinking either crunches or mall-walking or excessive gum-chewing. Anyone have any other ideas? It has to be indoors, because I live in the soggy wet suicide capital of the western hemisphere and refuse to go *out there* any more than is absolutely necessary, i.e. from the car to the house, from work to the car, etc.)
3. I will not be sarcastic to total strangers (unless they really deserve it)
4. I will be less judgmental of creepy gross people (unless they are just so creepy and gross that I can't help myself, i.e. obese people in leggings, anyone with muffin-top love-handle pants, anyone with so much bronzer on their face that they look orange or George-Hamilton-like and their head does not match their body).
5. I will purge my closets of all the clothes I hate and never ever wear, instead of "waiting for them to come back in style."

Um...I can't think of anything else.

And I probably won't even stick to any of these things. Maybe 1 and 4. 5 sounds like a great idea on paper, but totally overwhelming as an actual "thing to do." Do I ebay them? Goodwill? Take them to consignment stores? Set them on fire just to watch them burn?

That I can't think of lots and lots of resolutions probably means A) I like my life the way it is and don't feel the need to change much, or B) I know "resolutions" don't work in the way that "diets" don't work, or C) I am just that lazy.


I will blog more often though, I swear.