She’s a listress, a listophile, a listy lister...
So I can begin working on my 105 resolutions for 2005, I’ve spent the last couple of days recapping 2004.
[for those of you who aren’t familiar with my list-obsessive-statistical-analysis of annual resolutions, see this entry. Yes, I have been making resolutions list that correspond with each year (99 in 1999, and so on) for some time now, perfecting the list each year. My reasoning is that my percentage of success is a lot higher with 100-plus mega resolutions than it would be with 10 measly ones.]

Because I changed jobs, from newspaper to magazine, from managing editor to associate editor, and I now have my Dream Job, around 45 WORK items on the list of 104 either became superfluous or were completed.

Others, in the categories FAMILY and FRIENDS, could have been better. I did make a point to spend time with people who inspire me creatively and less time with people who don’t. I’ve also ditched all the “mean” friends. Thumbs up to about 12 items here.

Under HABITS, I’ve got “spend less time getting ready in the morning” mastered. I’ve been much more consistent about using a grocery list for shopping so I don’t arrive home with 10 bags containing cat foods, pop tarts, pomegranate juice, chocolate chip ice cream, a pound of clementines and three bags of apples – and nothing to cook for dinner. Yep. Much better about that.

For HOME, I did everything except strip the god-awful wallpaper in the kitchen and bath that’s been on the walls mocking me since I moved in. I throw old magazines away now. I use my cookbooks. Score – 10 good ones.

MIND – yes, yes, more yes. My only black mark is watching television. But I log more hours reading. Letting go of guilt? Pretty much have that wiped out. For GIVE, I did everything I was supposed to in that category.

There are a few that are too personal to go into here, but suffice it to say that I did a pretty darn good job of making myself a better person in 2004. Success percentile: 72.

Can I get a “whoo-hoo?”

Holiday Spam

Dear Friends and Family,

Happy Holidays!

Since we’ve received so many annual Christmas letters from you all, either unbearably pompous or so poorly written they sound like they were translated from 18th century Hungarian, we decided to return the favor this year. Remember: A mass letter giving you the high points of our lives this year doesn’t mean we don’t love you, it means we don’t love you enough to visit, pick up the phone, or send an occasional e-mail.

The purebredtarded cat, at age five, finally figured out where water comes from and can now drink from the sink. Much credit to Kelly’s hours spent holding her paw near the faucet and repeating, “water, Helen, water.” If we could just teach her to get down from there…

Michael overcame his annual temporary facial paralysis and is now even more ridiculously good looking than ever. Though he didn’t make it home in time for martini hour once this year, he did almost join a kickball league, a book club, and he drove by a church three times. At the top of his holiday list? A Super Soaker 3000. We had to stand in line for three hours at the g*ddamn Toys R Us to make that wish come true.

As far as Kelly is concerned, dear Family, your little girl may be all grown up. She stopped referring to Michael as her “gay husband.” She didn’t cry during a single AT & T commercial this year. She only drove with illegal plates for two months. She skipped her annual one-night-stand-followed-by-weeks-of-remorse this year. And she finally read enough “learning how to say no” magazine articles, and learned how to say no (those last two items sort of go hand in hand…).

We'd love to send you photos of the 12 couples we know who adopted baby girls from China this year, but Kelly wants to keep them to look at and cry, just in case her biological clock ever kicks in.

Have a wonderful holiday and happy 2005.

Humbuggery...
I might have been a little sullen and morose earlier this month, particularly the night that I was home alone putting up the holiday tree while drinking wine and watching A Charlie Brown Christmas. By myself. Drinking.

Thankfully, I didn't have a momentary lapse of reason and drunk dial anyone. And I didn't break anything important. I also didn't set my tree on fire, squeeze off a few handgun rounds, and attempt suicide in hopes of drawing the attention of my ambivalent boyfriend.

Good for me! I always like to focus on the positive during the holidays.

Favorite holiday movies...
I love the classic A Christmas Story - always hilarious. And I watch It's a Wonderful Life almost every Christmas Eve.

But my favorite has to be Home for the Holidays (1995), starring Holly Hunter and Robert Downey Jr.
It's dark and dysfunctional and romantic and screwy. The best quote in the movie is when Tommy (Downey) is talking to his friend Leo Fish (Dylan McDermott) about his sister Claudia (Hunter): "She feels her feelings when she feels them. Feelings come up, and she actually feels them. Which is great."

Too few people realize the greatness of this movie.

What's your favorite (underrated or otherwise) holiday movie of all time?

Santa is hardcore...
Those black boots, the grungy beard, the Anarchy sticker on his sleigh...Santa Mosh makes me want to break out my Clash t-shirt and "Bedtime for Democracy" CD. Old school punk rules.

Gettin' my Holiday on...
It's a Wonderful Life. In 30 seconds. Re-enacted by bunnies. Amusing! Go there.

Wink, wink. Wink. Wink.
Congratulations may be in order, as I think I might be engaged. To the guy who works at a downtown convenience store that I stop in three or four times a week. Long story short: He's not from the U.S. (don't ask me where he's from...I'm terrible at geography...it might be Israel. Or Istanbul.). Anyway, I was in the store buying a YooHoo chocolate beverage and a pack of cigarettes. I made the usual "hi, bye" conversation at the counter, except this time I was WINKING. Subtly. Because of my eye twitch.

He asked, "how are you?" like four times, sort of grinning/leering at the same time, then suddenly started talking to his brother, who was in the back of the store. And not in English. His brother walked behind me, chucked me on the arm, and said, "congratulations, sister!"

What the...???!??!

Yes, I am always nice to the convenience store man. He knows my brand so I don't have to ask for cigarettes, which he knows embarrasses me because I was supposed to quit. He knows I like plain almonds in the can, and that I usually buy five or six packages of gum at a time (for the office). But I don't think you can base a marriage on that. I don't know the rules and customs of other countries. In his country, winking might mean I agreed to marry him. Maybe it even means that I asked him.

Damn twitch. I'm going to start wearing an eye patch.

Easily pleased...
It's most often the little things in life that make me happy. My sweet pink aluminium Christmas tree decorated with tiny disco balls.
The cashmere scarf Michael gave me for my birthday last year that I am still in love with.
That I can still get completely lost in a book even after multiple comp lit classes and years as a critical editor.
And Aleigh reminded me how much I love to floss. Because of this thing.

So tell me, what are your "little things?"

Particularly irksome...
I've had a twitch in my left eyelid for two days now. I thought it would go away with a good night's sleep, but apparently nine hours isn't sufficient because it was still twitching away when I woke up this morning. It's not painful, but it is annoying as hell.

My obsessive compulsiveness made me do an Internet search to self-diagnose (something I do anytime I have ANYTHING that resembles a "symptom") and the general consensus is that it's caused by stress. And maybe too much coffee. The cure? Don't be stressed. And quit the caffeine.

I just might have to live with it.

Silly Little Dreamer...

He was part of my dream, of course, but then I was part of his dream too.
-Lewis Carroll

Ever dream about something that actually happened in the past, then when you wake up you think for a little while it really was ALL a dream and not a real memory? I think mine probably came from watching too many Season 3 episodes of Alias at once, but last night I dreamed about someone I hadn't seen in a long time, about very vivid conversations and events, and when I woke up it took me about 10 minutes to figure out if I made him up in my head. Honestly, I'm still not sure.

Don't freak out, but THIS might be a dream right now.

Perfectly swell...
My adorable friend Robbie, I think since I've known him, calls me "baby girl." In your head, you have to hear it in the voice of the dad from Good Times, played by John Amos. I don't know why, but it makes me feel calm.

Sometimes I call him "Daddy-o" in return (you have to hear it in the voice of Rosemary Clooney, circa 1938, singing Cole Porter's "My Heart Belongs to Daddy"). I used to call him Sugar Pie until I found out that it was the name of Anna Nicole's dog.

Why all the cutie-cuteness with the nicknames? Not so fast, Snappy McJudgment. Life would be a bore if we always called everyone by their real names. Michael called his friend Loraine "Shrimp LoMein" for five years running. He still substitutes "squirrel" for the word "girl" in every song he sings along with.

Hmmm. If you combine him with Robbie, my nickname would be "Baby Squirrel."

Things I don't understand...
Dryel. Why would a poor person buy "dry clean only" clothing? Don't they wear mostly synthetic wash-n-dry fabrics?
The Segway. As a country, aren't we out-of-shape and fat enough as it is? We need something to make that trip from the house to the SIDEWALK easier?
The HairMade. I saw this one on TV. It's a stand to hold your hair dryer. Yeah, blow drying our hair is really haaaaaard.

I could go on. And on.

All sarcasm aside, please do not forget that I am the person who still thinks the microwave is a fad. And I've never owned one. Go figure.

Remember when...
I was feeling all nostalgic a few weeks ago? I was on deadline that week. Since I have a one-track mind, nostalgia is also the topic of my latest article in Skirt! Read it online here.

Ignorance + Apathy = Worldwide Epidemic
.
I lost my best friend 11 years ago and still miss him every day. His death was awful. His family was devastated. I was heartbroken. He was 23 years old. Apathy is not an option for me. I hope people wake up to this crisis before they can say the same.