My new year's resolutions are as follows:

1) Keep clear of people who claim that God speaks to them. (Just because you hear voices, doesn't mean that they are from God).

2) Be kind to everyone.

3) Only quote "Sixteen Candles" once every six months. Any more constitutes acting out on a weird obsession.

4) Love freely, but protect myself.

5) Eat more Trader Joe's stir fries.

6) Blog more.

7) Put money away.

8) Be good to myself.

9) Don't worry so much about eyebrows.

10) Enjoy life.

More to come...May the best come in 2006!

I have to say that my day did not start out great. Before I could even think about coffee (which my bladder has ceased to reject...THANK GOD!), I stepped out of bed and into my sister's cat's puke. At first I thought it was diarrhea (it just had that feel), but was corrected that it was actually the digested remains of a rodent (it was at this point I began to dry heave my way to the shower). And people wonder why I don't have pets...

However, after that, it was all up hill. I went to San Francisco and had a brief romance with some pumps at Nine West (can we say CUTE?! I'm not a big shoe brand person, but OH MY GOD, CAN WE SAY CUTE?!) I didn't buy any shoes because I was on a cute jacket binge, but I have a date with the Nine West store set up for next year).

Just for today, I can enjoy the day after Christmas (sans the puke).

I decided that I actually like the holidays, it's just my digestive system that has become cynical. I'm drinking egg nog and eating spicy tamlaes and basically sinning against my biology...

Last night I went to mass with my mother and then over to my aunt's house. My mom and aunt drank brandy and egg nog while we told stories of Christmases past. One story involves my uncle and charades (a deadly combination) and the time that he acted out the words/syllables, "Feel Lizard Naval Dad." I think it was my aunt (his wife) who made the brilliant connection to "Feliz Navidad."

Just for today, I can celebrate the holidays with my family.

It's no joke. I've been dragging myself through this season of cheer like a sack full of old tangerines. I just finished doing a totally ghetto wrapping job on my presents because I can't believe I have to do this....AGAIN. The stress of giving is enough to kill. Would Jesus feel guilty about spending $3.99 on a gift for a relative he saw once a year?

There was a time, somewhere between 7 and 10, when my love of Christmas, along with my gift wrapping skills, shone like the Virgin Mary herself. [This is around the same time I developed the compulsive habit of making the sign of the cross during times of great duress (this behavior so horrified my mother that she would pinch me till I cried...thus, solidifying the association between God and pain...thanks Mom!)]. This behavior eventually morphed into compulsive shopping and boy craziness and other forms of destruction, but at that time who knew? I was like an virtual angel blessing the world with my weird fixation on religion and during the season of giving my heart was like an electrical socket that lit up the Christmas tree under which I'd stand and marvel at the beauty a light made when shining on a bulb...Those were the days when Christmas mean something...(sigh).

Just for today, I'm making it through the holidays.

I've been so insanely busy with work (just so you know, I do do things besides pick up Tom Hanks' leftovers...like figure out where the opening and closing div tags go...you know, important stuff) and the general holiday madness (it's just a really good excuse to go to malls and walk around like you have a MISSION) that I haven't had a chance to really blog...I mean REALLY BLOG. Like, sit here and stare at the computer for an hour and then write about...I don't know...the existential emptiness that comes between the exhale and inhale. I mean, like, really blogging!

So, the truth is, that whenever I really set aside time to blog, I find that I don't have much to say.

Just for today, I can blog.

I used to be in love with Tom Hanks back in junior high school when I would come home and watch re-runs of "Bosom Buddies." In those days, I dreamed of one day meeting him and experiencing the deeply felt soulful connection I felt certain to have. Little did I know that years down the line that day would finally come when I would look him straight in the eye and say, "Can I take your plate, sir?"

Just for today, dreams come true through catering work.

I had something good to write about, but I went to a Christmas party and ate too much ravioli and drank too much Pinot [alcohol is my new "drink"...I'M JUST KIDDING (not really)] and all I can think about is how many more Christmas cards I need to write and how America is making me immune to honest self-reflection. The holidays make me want to do strange things...like call old boyfriends and spend too much money on wrapping paper (isn't there something about charity and good will toward men/women?) Instead all I can focus on are ginger bread lattes and my eyebrows (which desperately need to be taken into the Eyebrow Lady). Presents, gifts, and Christmas lights (I went to Target TWICE). It all just feels like one hellish finals week and I haven't been in school for eleven years.

Just for today, I feel stressed by the holidays.

I went to get my oil changed today, and a hundred dollars later I drove away feeling like I must be a mechanic's worst nightmare. It's hard for me not to treat any mechanic like a swindler. Today I called the guy at EZ Lube a "hustler." The word just came out of my mouth. This guy ("Jay") is just going along his business and then I come along and the next thing he knows he's being called names by me because I don't know anything about brake fluid.

Just for today, I can look at my car issues.

I really can't keep going to yoga in my current work-out wardrobe. It's actually a disgrace, to be quite honest. Nobody told me that yoga class was the new fashion mecca. I had to learn the hard way (as usual), by showing up too many days in the row in the same Ross work-out pants. So humbling.

Just for today, I remain behind the times.

I'm sending a business letter out tomorrow and I did two things to it (the letter) to try to insure that its repurcussions are positive: I asked my grandmother's spirit to bless it and I graced it with a "Muppet" stamps.

I can't tell you how happy I was the day I discovered that the U.S. Postal Service had (finally) created "Muppet" stamps. I don't care what anyone says, the original Muppets are the greatest creative inspiration of the twentieth century. These characters represent all my character flaws, from my narcissism (Ms. Piggy), to my self-delusion (Fozzie Bear) (...in another life I would write a disseration on this...)

Anyway, I put the stamps featuring "Animal" on my letter to symbolize my raw animal instinct.

Just for today, I can embrace my inner-Muppets (the original ones...not the knock-offs).

P.S. I just want to put out an amends to my little sister for telling her that she looked like a Muppet. You don't look like a Muppet. It was just the way you laughed that one time.