My New Years Resolutions:
- Stop flirting with Gay Salespeople. I love Patrick at the furniture store because he has fabulous shoes and he looks like he should have his own show on HGTV. And I love the salesman at the Gymboree Outlet because he called me Sweetheart, and I’m pretty sure he’d give me extra GymBucks if we were BFFs. The problem is that I want to be friends with these people so much that I often want to reach across the counter and embrace them in a giant bear hug, but I’m worried that they might find this a tad stalkerish. Also, I need to stop assuming that every gay man I meet would be a good match for my friend Mike. Because assuming he and Mike would be a good match is like saying, “you’re from California? Hey do you know _____? He’s from California too!”
- Stop considering Us Weekly and People Magazine my primary news sources. I have no idea what’s going on in Congress and I’m only vaguely aware of some controversy with one of the Koreas, but I do know that Jake and Taylor broke up and that Sandra has been linked to Ryan Reynolds, recently split from ScarJo.
- Refrain from thinking hateful thoughts about the trainers at the gym. They are doing their jobs and it is through no fault of theirs that every mirror in the joint reflects my wobbly bits in all their jiggly glory. Furthermore, it is doubtful that they are a part of a giant conspiracy to hurt me.
- Accept the fact that Old Navy jeans do not flatter me. Just because I can button them doesn’t mean they fit.
- Break the Cardigan Habit. Dude. I’m strung out on the Cardigans, man . . .
|pregnant bridesmaid cardigan|
|Thanksgiving carve-the-roast-beast cardigan|
|the Most Magical Place on Earth cardigan|
|Central Park cardigan|
|Canadian tea cardigan|
|Book Club at the Melting Pot cardigan|
6. Go to Target and/or Starbucks at least once a week. Preferably both. (It’s important to set realistic, attainable goals.
7. Expand my cooking repertoire beyond Grilled Cheese, Nuggets, and Fish Sticks. I declare 2011 the year my children will eat vegetables. The real ones; not the baby food kind I sneak into their pasta sauce.
8. Try not to cringe every time Hubby says “coulda went,” because it’s time to recognize that, after 17 years together, he’s doing it just to irritate me. Who says CPAs don’t have a sense of humor?
9. Stop referring to my boobs as “the Baby Feeders” at parties, as it makes people feel uncomfortable. For example, (hypothetically of course,) when we’re at a New Year’s Eve party and I say, “Hey, easy with the dice there, chief! You just hit me in the right Baby Feeder,” the pastor sitting at the other end of the table will be rendered speechless while the rest of the room erupts in nervous laughter. Hypothetically. Also, in the future, it might be helpful to determine the other party-goers’ line of work before making reference to said body parts.
10. Get on the scale at Weight Watchers without preempting it with “Um, I’ve made some bad decisions this week.” The WW lady will know this once she reads the scale; no need to announce it ahead of time.
There ya have it, folks. Happy 2011 to you!