Posted by thegirlwiththeblog
Facebook has ruined New Year’s Eve.
Instead of feeling delightful satisfaction in my evening plans of spaghetti and “To Catch a Predator” reruns I feel, dejected…forlorn… bloated? That’s unrelated. I’m seeing status updates of friends, of friends, of people with too few privacy settings, making plans to welcome 2012 with inviting, boozed up arms, and I can’t help but think to myself; should I too be a part of the drunken masses? Should I feel bad that at 23 years old the most exciting thing I have done on this New Year’s Eve is complete a graduate school application and attempt to tune my ukulele? I’m not sure. I’m not much of a drinker, partyer, socializer, coke-snorter, or any other category of people who really get off on New Year’s Eve celebrations. Yet, I can’t help but feel as though I am missing out on something.
I read an article a year or so ago regarding “Facebook depression,” a condition plaguing the minds of individuals, ranging in age from teen to middle-aged adulthood, who spend more time social networking than living a social life, and whose first names start with L and end with A. While this article, obviously has little to do with me OR my increasingly uni-bomber existence, I think it’s a little sad that it even had to be written. Sadder yet is the fact that a year later I am still thinking about it as I sit at my dining room table, drinking Theraflu in my glasses and pony tail.
So to combat any temporary feelings of inadequacy, I’m going to out resolution all those suckers. Though my true list is too lengthy and graphic to be shown on this blog, I am going to delight you all with an abridged version.
1. Finish my novel – Last December I started a novel. I planned on finishing it by today but between moving three times and joining Twitter, I just didn’t have the time. So this year will most definitely be THE year, that my novel is completed, and I can start feeling like my writing degree isn’t entirely useless.
2. Chill with Bobby D – I won’t go as far as saying that I’m going to coerce some sort of romantic relationship with Bob Dylan, that would be crazy; our love is too strong for the confines of a BF/GF status. Nevertheless, I am going to chill with Bob this year, whether in person or in spirit is yet to be determined. Each year, Dylan fanatics throw a festival in his hometown of Hibbing, MN called “Dylan Days.” Last year I didn’t go for a number of inexcusable reasons. This year, nothing, NOTHING will stop be from going. Not financial barriers, not the INS. I will be there, in the North Country, pretending I’m a girl from it.
3. Stop giggling at words that do not make any other adults giggle – Why can’t I pass a “Tire and Lube” shop without giggling “lube” under my breath? Why can’t I submit to a customer request for a second teabag without thinking something like “I bet you love your teabags” or “what a whore?” Why can’t I drink a blueberry muffin gas station cappuccino without saying to my sister, “damn gurl, how you get yo muffin to smell like blueberries?” WHY? I am 23 year old, semi-professional, semi-classy woman. I need to get my obscene mind under control or at least start making money with it!
4. Lose weight – BORING! Not only did I already discuss this in a previous blog entry, but it’s also the most used up resolution in the book. This hardly makes me better than anyone and considering I will likely fail, I am just depressing myself with my conformist tendencies.
5. Read one book per month – I realize this goal makes me sound like some sort of degenerate Kentuckian, since most people I know read 12 books a week, but I have a hard time with reading. I get caught up in an author’s stupid word choice, or poor sentence structure, or shoddy cover art, and I can’t get beyond most intro paragraphs. Since it is unlikely that I will be able to accomplish this with traditional literature, I am going to include erotica novels and Gilmore Girls fan fiction as possible options.
6. Learn to play ukulele – Despite the flattering snapshot featured above, I must admit I don’t currently know how to play ukulele. I’m a fraud. A phony. A washed up dreamer. Since most of the songs I write are depressing to the point of self stranglization (not a word), I figured having a ukulele will force me to write about happy things like puppies, rainbows, and bourbon whiskey.
Unfortunately due to threats of SOPA, this is all I can write. In fact, I’ve probably written too much already…Nevertheless, I have accomplished what I hoped. Not only are my resolutions straight up awesome, but if I actually accomplish them and end 2012 as a thinner, well-read, ukulele playing, well-mannered, author, friend of Bob Dylan, it goes without saying that spending New Year’s Eve eating Sherbert and watching Judge Judy is probably more productive than anything else I could have done.
Happy New Year, every body!
The girl so sick she can hardly swallow