10 Reasons To Never Leave the House in 2016

I am a homebody.

That’s putting it nicely. I go out so infrequently that I went almost a year before needing an oil change in my car, based on mileage. I go out so infrequently that I forgot I owned regular pants. I go out so infrequently that I often wonder if I might be becoming agoraphobic.

What is that movie with Sigourney Weaver where she is a recluse, holed up in her apartment or whatever and she’s so afraid to leave that when she walks into the hallway everything starts spinning as she hyperventilates and clings to the wall? Yeah that. I often wonder if that will be me one day.

Going out of the house is exhausting for me. It may be that I have social anxiety. A couple hours and I am so done. But it never used to be that way. I used to spend all my time out; we even used to go out to eat at the very least multiple times per week. We’d run all our errands around town, we’d go to the library and hang out…

Now I’ll look up on January 5th and realize that I have not left the house since Christmas Day.

This isn’t to say that I’m just sitting on my ass watching TV. I mean I do watch a fair amount of Netflix and movies, and binging is occasionally involved in all of that. But I still exercise, take the dog on walks, cook, clean, homeschool the kids… I just don’t often have an occasion to go anywhere and even the groceries are delivered now.

So today I started teaching a drawing class at my local art center. I knew this day was coming, the day when I would have to start getting in my car and driving to another location, where I would spend about four hours of my life away from home and my comfortable, secluded existence every single week.

That didn’t make it any easier though. When I was putting on my makeup I thought to myself ‘my God, I don’t think I’ve worn makeup in two weeks.’ Then I put on regular shoes. Not slippers, because you can’t wear slippers in public (I mean you can, but it’s looked down upon). Makeup. Regular shoes.

But I still had a couple of hours to kill until it was time to leave, so I sat down and read my book, which made me dread leaving more and more by the minute. At one point I had stopped reading and was just staring at my book thinking about how I didn’t want to leave my comfortable, sheltered existence. Not even for four hours for something I wanted to do.

Eventually, as I got up and dragged myself to class (which I ultimately did enjoy), I started coming up with all the reasons to never leave the house this year. I mean they could essentially apply to all years, but since everyone is doing this whole New Year New Me crap, in spite of my warnings last week not to do so, it sounds like a good thing to commit to.

Here goes:

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1. Making a Murderer

Anyone else spend their holiday binge watching the most terrifying and disturbing documentation of the American justice system as it is today in action?

Making a Murderer is of course the number one reason never to leave the house in 2016 not just because you need to stay home to watch that shit, but because if you leave the house there’s obviously a good chance that you too will be framed for murder, and then ultimately failed by the very justice system you depend on for your livelihood.

2. Other Netflix Shit

I often find myself thinking about how there are just so many things on Netflix, and out there in general – movies, TV series’, documentaries…and I’m not talking about the mindless crap, I’m talking about good shit that could be called educational or art. Shit that makes you aware of what is going on in the world.

Anyway there is just so much of it out there that you need to be watching, and you can’t do that if you’re spending all of your time outside of the house.

3. Wine

Same principle as the Other Netflix Shit: there is just so much wine to be had and tried, with new ones cropping up it seems like every week. Have you ever been through the wine selection at Costco or your grocery store? It never ends!

Life is too short to go without trying all that delicious wine; and moreover you need to drink it at home because drinking and driving is very 1995.

4. Books

Did you catch my little diddy about getting comfortable with my book only to have to leave?

I. Am. Sick. Of. This. Happening.

Why life continues to get in the way of me and my books is beyond me. Nevertheless, the more I commit to stay at home all year the more I am able to get read towards my goal of 125 books for 2016.

5. Pajamas

After going for several weeks without once stepping foot out the front door, I can tell you people without a singular doubt that pajamas > regular clothes. Hands down.

I would even go as far as to say that wearing pajamas during the day makes them even more > regular clothes. It’s like eating a cupcake when you know you’re on a group diet with a bunch of other people. It’s just so good because you aren’t supposed to be doing it, and you know you’re one of the only ones with the balls enough to go there.

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6. Other People

Now it’s already become clear that I’m not exactly what one would call a socialite. I have a very small circle of people that tolerate me, and that I in turn are able to tolerate. And that’s it.

When you go out of your house too much, though, you are exposed to the underbelly of humanity. People you would never – not in a million years – have anything to do with, along with all the reasons you wouldn’t have anything to do with them, are foisted upon you just by virtue of the fact that you all left the house.

7. Germs

Several years ago a friend of mine and I were walking through 3rd Street Promenade (this was when we lived in Santa Monica), and came across Howie Mandel doing some street bit for TV. My friend being boisterous and, well, crazy, jumped up and down until they interviewed him for the bit.

My friend walked up to Mandel and offered his hand. To shake. You know, like: “hello, nice to meet you, shake the hand.” But Mandel says “wait what are you doing man, germs.”

I am rapidly descending into that level of germaphobe. I mean I still shake people’s hands, but sometimes I also feel like leaving the house only if I am protected in gloves and a mask.

It seems as though every time we leave the house we are confronted by a parade of germs just oozing with the desire to infect us. Now I know kids are supposed to get all that immunity shit over with early on (actually, studies have proven that’s all old wives tale shit, but I’m no doctor so…); but for God’s sakes, can we have one fucking break from the $1000 illnesses already?!

Getting sick costs money and at this point in time we don’t have it.

8. Money

Leaving the house in general costs money. Directly and indirectly.

By not going out so much that I went almost a year without needing an oil change, I effectively saved myself three oil changes. That’s about $180, not to mention all the other unnecessary shit they always find that doesn’t really need fixing – but wait, we have to fix it or we can’t do your oil change…

That was just the start of the savings.

9. Teaching Your Kids Mindfulness

This is a serious one, which I know is shocking since 90% of what comes out of my mouth is laced with sarcasm.

Constantly being on the go, and dragging your kids from one errand to another…one social function to the next…play land to play land…(you get the point), does nothing to teach your kids mindfulness.

There was a time that this was how I lived. To keep my kids entertained, I would drag them from place to place, spending tons of money and energy to give them roughly one hour of instant gratification and fun before they got bored and were ready to move on to the next best thing.

Then I noticed that they had stopped appreciating the things they had at home. Suddenly it was always about what was bigger and better. They stopped finding as much interest in reading or playing a board game as a family, because they wanted to go to the new jump place down the street.

That’s when I realized that I was teaching my kids to live in the future, the “what’s next,” rather than to live in the mindful present.

So we went cold turkey. We stopped taking them anywhere, and stopped buying them every single thing that they asked for. At first, it was rough, but as time went on the old toys and games and books that they had loved before started coming out. And suddenly they loved being at home and loved the things they already had again.

They were more mindful of their time and appreciative of their family and what they had, too.

10. Did I Mention Netflix, Pajamas, and Reading?

Seriously, this whole post was about those three things, which – I guess – makes them worth repeating.

Life is too short to spend it sitting in traffic, tolerating irritating people, and doing things you don’t actually want to do.

Now…if you want to go out and have a good time, or go on a hike, or attend that fifth family Thanksgiving dinner, well so be it. But just remember that at home you have all these wonderful things waiting for you that can and are just as good.

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Countdown to 2016, Part Two: Do Not Resolve To Clean More

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I have a housekeeper, and I am not ashamed to admit it.

I used to be ashamed to admit it. People would say in the whiniest voice imaginable: “why don’t you just clean it yourself, I do!” Or: “I just couldn’t trust someone else to do my job.” And then I’d feel as though I had to justify, even to complete strangers, why we have a housekeeper.

But not anymore.

I often see people posting on Facebook and Twitter as we close in on the new year about how they’re going to resolve to get more organized in their lives and their homes. That they plan to start the new year with resolve to keep their house clean and orderly; to finally have that magazine-worthy home they’ve always dreamed of having, and by their doing.

I won’t argue that a clean house feels nice. For all of 30 seconds until someone messes something up, or another load of laundry needs to be done. And then the aches and pains of hard, back-breaking labor kick in, and it’s like: why the fuck did I just do this?

So I implore you, people of the Internet…

Countdown to 2016

Part Two

Do Not Resolve To Clean More

There are a lot of reasons why resolving to clean more is just dumb.

To begin, it implies that your lifestyle is dirty or something to be ashamed of. Now I should probably take this moment to say that we aren’t talking about hoarders. Bonafide-eligible-to-be-on-the-next-season-of-A&E-Hoarders people. No, those people do need to clean more, but moreover they need to get help.

I’m talking about the people who let the dusting go once in a while; that allow the things to stay on the counter or the kitchen table for more than a day or two. Or that  – like me – hire a housekeeper to do the deep-deep work.

Unless you have a number of dead, smashed cats under your piles and piles of collected garbage, I think there is absolutely nothing wrong with the way you live your life. Cleaning more, or getting more organized – unless something in particular bothers you – is then nothing more than another distraction from what’s important in your life.

When I was in college, I worked in a pharmacy with a guy that always justified the things he did with the question: “will I regret this when I’m on my death bed?” It was a good way to look at the world, and I caught on quickly. He used it to justify not working huge blocks of overtime so that he could instead spend that time with his kids; and I think it applies to cleaning house too.

On your deathbed, what are the things you’ll regret?

  1. Not traveling more;
  2. Not asking your lifelong love to marry you;
  3. Not spending enough time with your kids;
  4. Not reading enough books, listening to enough music, watching enough movies, or whatever your passions may be;
  5. The list has the potential to be endless…

Although, never – in my entire life since learning this deathbed lesson – have I asked someone what they will regret on their deathbed and heard them say “I wish I had vacuumed the floors and scrubbed the counters more.” Seriously. That would be fucking dumb.

For me, I think the childhoods of my kids are going by so quickly that to waste my time mopping floors and scrubbing bathtubs would be a great disservice to them, as well as me. What kind of a mother chooses to obsessively perfect her home while her kids don’t give a single shit about whether it’s a little dusty or some pillows are out of place?

Sure, everything within reason, and it’s a slippery slope where letting things go a little turns into a complete and utter pig sty. But if there is one trite inspirational quote that has gone viral recently that I identify with, it’s this:

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So hire the damn cleaning lady, and consider how much you won’t spend in cleaning products and the price of memories well worth it. And if you genuinely cannot afford it, I offer you the song of my people:

FUCKING. LET. IT. GO.

 

Countdown to 2016, Part One: Do Not Resolve To Juice Cleanse

7259b417c46c8da4e44301770bdd58b6New Year’s Resolutions are among the most irritating things to hear people talk about. Not only do very few people actually follow through on them, but it speaks of a particular type of sadness that there are those who legitimately need a holiday to do things they should already be doing.

 

The conspiracy theorist in me also wonders just how much of a New Year’s Resolution tradition is really nothing more than a deeply ingrained habit we have as a culture started by crafty marketers just trying to sell products. You can’t deny that gym memberships, health food companies, nicotine patch systems, investment companies, and other health-and-life conscious businesses make bank in the beginning of every year. Remember that article that went viral a while back about how women never used to shave their legs until the razor blade companies realized they needed to expand their market of customers? In the back of my mind this whole new year-new me crap seems sort of like that.

You may not agree with me, and that’s OK.

What it’s not OK to not agree with me on, though, are about some of your resolutions. If those still end up being the course you take later this week after my compelling argument above, of course.

So in honor of the coming new year, I thought we could do a little countdown here on the blog of things you should not resolve to. I’ve done this before in the past, but sure enough you people found plenty of more contemporary bullshit to replace resolutions of yore.

Here goes:

Countdown to 2016

Part One

Do Not Resolve To Juice Cleanse

I feel as though I’m stating the obvious here when I tell you that your body needs food to survive. Whole foods. Foods you actually have to chew. Chew-chew-chew, swallow, and digest.

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And yet somehow, some way, in the last few years a group of people we’ll call Juice Cleansing Imbeciles seem to have lost their way on that one.

First and foremost, the Juice Cleansing Imbeciles are like the anti-vaxxers of health and wellness. Rather than actually read the articles, gather the statistics, and make educated choices, they just go with what sounds like the quickest and easiest way to remove “toxins” from their bodies.

They also believe in magical toxins that can’t be removed by – oh, I don’t know – their livers.

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So before you casually join the Juice Cleansing Imbeciles as a part of your new-year-new-me resolution this Friday, consider the following:

  1. Juice cleansing is bullshit.
  2. Your liver and kidneys already do a more-than-adequate job of eliminating waste from  your body. No really, empirically, statistically, scientifically… they do.
  3. Juice cleansing is bullshit.
  4. When you turn whole foods into juice, all you are doing is eliminating the essential fibers from those foods. Now fibers are called essential because they are what is really needed to keep waste moving through your body. And they also have a whole host of other benefits from cancer prevention to positive heart health. When you remove those essential fibers from the equation, though, you’re left with a glass of sugar.
  5. Juice cleansing is bullshit.
  6. The irony is that Juice Cleansing Imbeciles are often also the complete and over-the-top anti-sugar assholes. Being completely unaware that the type and amount of sugar you consume is what determines whether or not it is healthy for you, and obviously ignoring the fact that your brain actually needs sugar to function, these people claim that the best way to be healthy is to cut every last grain of sugar out of their diets. Except when they’re juicing, of course, because living off glass after glass of good tasting natural sugar water is totally fine.
  7. Juice cleansing is bullshit.
  8. Juice cleansing has not been proven, in any independent study, to actually result in weight loss. Or, more importantly, any healthful benefits whatsoever. In fact, some studies have found that juice cleansing actually harmed the participants – from raised blood sugars, to malnutrition, to tooth decay.
  9. Did I mention that juice cleansing is bullshit?
  10. Juice cleansing makes you sound like an arrogant and pompous asshole, who interestingly enough isn’t only an arrogant and pompous asshole but is also a fucking idiot who doesn’t know how to science.

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Look, if you like to have a glass of juice when you get up in the morning, or whatever you like to have your juice with, and you want to buy a juicer and make healthier juice than the canned or cartoned crap you buy at the grocery store, that’s fine.

But do not resolve to juice cleanse for some magical health benefits you will never realize. If you want to lose weight, increase your activity or resolve to eat a healthier balance of whole foods, with an increased intake of whole fruits and vegetables. If you want to remove “toxins” from your body, thank your liver and kidneys because they’re already doing the job, in most cases more than adequately.

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I AM VERY ANGRY ABOUT YOUR WEIGHT LOSS CAMPAIGN!

… SO ANGRY THAT I HAVE TO SCREAM IN CAPITAL LETTERS OVER THE INTERNET!

Whew! That made me feel better.

Now back to topic:

It’s the new year. 2014. Yippity frackin’ do. I’m so excited to see all the people join gyms and post their run keeper status updates on Facebook. I can’t wait to hear at the Super Bowl party about how my friends cut out carbs or how my family isn’t doing fruit anymore, or about how you just started a cleanse and have to sit uber-close to the bathroom (you know who you are).

I am just dying to hear about how fat you all are as you pinch a very small amount of skin on your arms. I am so excited to listen to you all go on and on and on about how out of shape and logy you have been, as I shovel chips and fat-filled dip and you talk about this being your new mission in life while I sloth away right next to you.

Because believe you me: no matter how much of a fat ass you think your size is, it will not change a single thing about how I feel about mine. Even after you start telling me about all the different diets you think I should go on.

I can’t wait. For all of this.

It’s just a few days into January. That means just a few days of phone conversations and Facebook posts and Twitter Tweets and Instagram inspirational quote pictures – or worse … Flipagram videos of inspiring skinny people.

Let’s get skinny!!!

Even in just a few days, it is becoming intolerable.

What I’m trying to say here is that with the new year, we – as usual – are seeing an influx of people trying to get skinny. New year, new you and all that nonsense. By “we” I of course can only speak for myself, but I am assuming that unless you are one of these asstastic-I-have-big-time-body-and-self-confidence-issues-idiots, then you are experiencing this too.

What is so frustrating about it all is this:

Healthiness is in. I dig it. I love being healthy and eating salads and taking walks and exercising with Richard Simons and making lean meats for dinner instead of burgers. And getting a full night of sleep. And taking my folic acid every morning and my eight glasses of water every day. And being able to walk up the stairs in my house without having to take a break. It’s wonderful!

What is not wonderful is the underside of it all. The darkness that believes that the path to healthiness is to ridicule the fat away.

I can’t stand hearing or seeing people fat shame. It is awful to see my family put their already-anoxeric dogs on a diet (I’m looking at you, sister in law). Horrified is how I feel when people idolize Jennifer Lawrence, and call her a hero, because she referred to herself as “chubby on screen.” Let us end this Lawrence obsession once and for all: that trick is not chubby. She is doing nothing but making chubby people feel like 400-ton bison that will one day need to be removed from their homes by Jerry Springer and a crane.

And I’m telling you right now: the next skinny person I see on Facebook calling themselves “a pig,” “fat,” or “ugly” is getting the big, fat delete (pun intended).

This is not how we want to be presenting ourselves, people – as hating our selves and the ways that we are. Come on already. Even if that is not what you are trying to convey when you use this language in these terribly damaging and toxic ways, it is exactly what you are conveying; and not just to me, but to others.

Most importantly, to children.

If you want to change your life, change your life. Stop talking about it and do it. Stop making excuses about why you want to do it, and just do it. The rest of us will be angry at you and your weight loss campaign much less if you just be a little less self-deprecating, and a whole lot more inspiring.

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Two New Years Resolutions I Will Be Making This Year (Even Though I Don’t Believe In New Years Resolutions)

I don’t believe in New Years Resolutions. Never have.

The crux of my argument is simple: if I want to be a better person in X area, I should just do it.

The new year is no more a new start than the morning is. It’s just time and my philosophy degree tells me that time is nothing more than an illusion. That may be too philosophical and pithy for most of you, though; and the truth is that I just don’t give a fuck about resolutions. Either I accept who I am or make better things when I realize I want to – not have to have some special day or social convention to con me into doing it.

I find New Years Resolutions to be so vain and self-aggrandizing sometimes too. They’re always about looks (I resolve to lose weight, take better care of my skin, wear skirts more often…); or narcissistic goals. I don’t mean that all goals are narcissistic or bad, I just mean that so many people I hear making goals for New Years Resolutions seem so self-centered and exalted about it. I read one on Facebook the other day that was the absolute worst: I resolve to have the most gorgeous children on the planet. Really? Because you and your husband aren’t exactly lookers – if you know what I mean – so maybe you should tone it down and just resolve to be good people.

I don’t know. That’s just me.

Off my soap box, I’m making not only ONE but TWO New Years Resolutions this year. Because I like hypocrisy and sounding like an idiot when I just lectured for paragraphs about why I don’t make resolutions.

I promise none of these will make me a better person, though. Or hot and sexy. They also won’t make me the best at anything, except for possibly make me even more of a misanthropic asshole than I already am.

Okay, here goes:

Hang Out With Fewer Assholes

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I posted about this on my Facebook page the other day and I will be damned if I’m going to fail at this one.

I am just so sick and tired of hanging around assholes. Toxic waste of human beings that just drag me and my family down with drama and unpaid bills and bullshit absolutely no one on this planet has time for.

This resolution came about after my husband and I got stiffed for a whopping $200 at my kid’s birthday dinner with ice skating the week before her birthday. We made it very clear to everyone we invited: everyone pays their fair share of the bill, the tax, the tip. If you don’t want to do that, then you can come over to our house for a little BBQ on us on her actual birthday – the idea was to have a kid’s activity with pomp and circumstance with out having to shell out all the dough for the activities and the entertainment and the treat bags and such.

And yet somehow, we got stiffed by a few of the people that were there. Stiffed big – so big we had to cancel some of our out of town plans in January.

So after that, just one incident in a long line of incidences that we have absolutely had enough of, I am resolving to hang out with fewer assholes. Life is too short to spend it with a bag of dicks.

Eat More Cupcakes

I joke a lot about emotionally eating, but in reality I rarely eat anything. I pick all day and then only sometimes get enough calories to sustain the busy life of being a mom with a husband who works ALL. THE. TIME.

The problem is simple: I live in California and feel an enormous amount of guilt every time I put fork to mouth.

I hear people say something seemingly nice like “you look like you’ve lost weight!!” and hear “finally chucked some fat off that huge ass of yours, eh Heather?!”

I know what you are thinking: I’m clearly suffering from major body issues. Get over it, who isn’t?

I’m so tired of being hungry, though.

I’m even more tired of making food that I don’t eat. Constantly, I am cooking and baking for family parties or friend things; or just making food at home for my husband – who on some days consumes upwards of five, large meal servings. And I never eat the desserts I make. Ever. Like ever-ever.

Well that shit’s about to come to an end. Either I’m going to stop cooking for others, and since that won’t happen because I’m bored and also have a major guilt complex – I’ll be eating more.

Dressbarn, here I come. I’m eating more cupcakes.

Are you making New Years Resolutions this year? Like really bullshit and vague ones, like you do every year; or something really serious like “get a job and move out of my parents’ basement?” Chances are if you are, I think you’re a tool; but then you have permission to thing I’m a tool for making my two resolutions too.

lJOtm3antidepressants-2014-optimism-new-years-ecards-someecardsIn any event: Happy New Years Bitchees… after the clock strikes 12, I’ll have a really big surprise for you. I mean, not really 12… you know, I’ll probably be out by then, my New Years kiss will be my husband groping me in his sleep; I’ll roll out of bed like I usually do somewhere around 9 or 10. The surprise will be then. Can’t wait!

My Complete List of (Planned) 2013 Failures

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Do you like setting yourself up for failure? I sure know I do. I used to think that if I never tried at anything, then I would never fail. Then I realized that never trying was in a sense failing too, so I started trying but realized that if I were to succeed then I would never know what to do with myself. So I try but set myself up to fail so that I don’t run the risk of not knowing just what in the hell I do once I do succeed. And then I still never have to fail because by setting myself up to fail, I in a way actually do succeed at something, but not something so terribly successful that I am lost once it’s all over. Technically.

Follow my logic? I know, it’s hard being inside my brain sometimes.

So 2012 may or may not have been a major year of failures for me. It depends on how you look at it. I published a book, that was pretty rad. But it wasn’t the book I wanted it to be – it was a memoir, geared towards the readers of this blog; rather than the Great American Novel (or whatever you want to call it). I really wanted it to be that big novel deal. I planned on reading 50 books, since I had completed my goal of 40 in 2011. That was a big whopper, because I fell into a funk around the spring and read a total of 5 for the year. I tried knitting scarves for all of my family as well. I knitted two.

I know. I’m a total loser.

Moving along to the New Year coming up. I’m not too into New Year’s resolutions – the concept is just so stupid to me. I think that is because the majority of people who make these life-changing “resolutions” are resolving to do things they (a) know they will never do; and (b) should be doing anyway. And the concept reeks of always thinking there is something inherently wrong with ourselves. “I’m going to lose weight.” “I’m going to drink less.” “I’m going to be nicer to my husband.” All those resolutions are nice, sure – but we are who we are, and even if there is something about ourselves that we’d like to change, to call it a “resolution” is like saying we are lesser people because of whatever the circumstance is that we want to change. I really think that we should be comfortable with the life we’ve chosen. Even if we want to change it, we should first make the resolution to accept where we have come from.

As I said: I know, it’s hard being inside my brain sometimes.

Now just because I am not a big fan of New Year’s resolutions, per se (or at least calling them New Year’s resolutions); and even though I do like setting myself up for failure, I still know that it’s important to make a plan for the year to come as the old ball begins to drop towards midnight on December 31st. Without plans and objectives and things to look forward to, what do we have other than a vacuous day-to-day existence?

Thus, I give you: My Complete List of (Planned) 2013 Failures.

1.  Read 40 books. I think I can do this. Maybe. I may cheat and finish the 20 or so books I started and failed to finish in 2012 to get the ball rolling.

2.  Move to Chicago. I’m sure that I will fail miserably on this one, even though everyone seems to be on board with our plan to finally make this happen. After 12 years of trying and failing, I just remain a little skeptical.

282887_649925093293_198650517_n3.  Knit blankets for my cousins Linsay and Clayton to go along with both of their wedding gifts (they are both getting married in the summer); as well as a baby blanket for each of the 11 friends having babies this next year.

4.  Have a baby. Yeah right, like that’s going to happen. Motherhood has already driven me to the nuthouse enough as it is; and that would require my husband and I to come within 5 feet of each other. Still, though, the thought crosses my mind more frequently as my clock ticks, and more friends show up pregnant.

5.  Cook and clean like a slave less.

6.  Take an art class. There was a time when I was an art major; and despite all the times I’ve committed to get back into it over the years, I have still not picked up a drawing pencil or paint brush in over a decade.

7.  Use the Internet less. In fact, Sundays are now going to be Internet-free in our house (let’s see how long that lasts).

8.  Talk on the phone more.

9.  Watch even more of The Simpsons. This is kind of weird. I have a pretty serious obsession with The Simpsons. I have the seasons on DVD and watch them every night before I go to bed. Sometimes I have day-long marathons of the show too – I just think it is one of the wittiest and realistic betrayals of American life. And I always get it when they take jabs at our contemporary American culture.

10.  Let myself go. I don’t mean gain 200 pounds, or let my hair get all gross and stringy. I mean be more comfortable. Wear jeans and sweatshirts more. Take more makeup-free days.

11.  Publish my compilation of short stories. It’s no Great American Novel, but it’ll do for now.

12.  Get a new dog.

13.  Learn to play the ukelele.

14.  Correct the current Pookies idea that babies get into a mother’s stomach by virtue of “the mom eating the baby, where it stays in her colon until the doctor cuts it out.”

15.  Take a mental health trip to a spa or a plateau or somewhere alone. An insane asylum for electroshock therapy will do.

If I don’t get a chance to say it between now and then, I suppose a happy new year to all of you faithful blog followers is in order. To peace. To prosperity. To failing miserably in all our life’s ventures in the year to come.

New Years Countdown Series, Day 2: a Resolution You SHOULD Make

Actually there are really TWO resolutions you should make, the first and very real being more generosity to the poor. The world economy is in a shit-tank, with over 80% of the world’s population living on far less than $10 a day. Only 20% of homeless people in the United States are actually mentally ill or suffering from alcoholism, so get your head out of your ass and stop justifying your stinginess by saying “they’ll just use my money at the liquor store anyway.” Just one day next year (hopefully more), resolve to give up your Starbucks and pass the $5 over to someone with an In Need sign. And if you really and truly believe they are all a bunch of degenerate and ungrateful hobos, rather than give money just get a few extra nonperishable grocery items next time you are at the store and drop them off on your way out. I promise you, they will be grateful.

Off my soap box, let’s get to the one resolution you really SHOULD actually make this year. I know this makes me a total hypocrite, because for the last few days I have done nothing but rip New Years Resolutions and their makers up one side and down the other, but while out to lunch today I realized what everyone should resolve to this next year FOR REALS:

You piggish mother fuckers should resolve to be less slovenly and sloppy while out to eat in the coming year.

I don’t know if it’s that a lot of people are off work and out and about this week, or that I’m going to the wrong places … but today was an all-star day in terms of people that made me lose my appetite while eating in a public venue. To be specific, there were four.

#1 Smell man and his noseless girlfriend were the first to make my gag reflex go – and it was only in the beginning while we were ordering our drinks. Sitting in the booth right next to us (directly behind my father, who is just as bitchy and blunt as I am) sat a man and his girlfriend who appeared to have a nose, but I’m fairly certain was just wearing a prosthetic implant. For if she had a nose she could have smelled this guy and been repulsed, rather than what she was doing – which was sucking face with him in such a way that I saw saliva dribble onto the booth below them. At one point, I thought that the smell man was trying to swallow the girl without a nose whole, but then they eventually stopped and got up to leave only for me to get a good waft of the fact that he clearly had not showered in days.

Now, I’m not one to judge people for unscently body odor. I myself have forgotten to put on deodorant on occasion, or not had time to brush my teeth so resorted to gum. But at some point, you have to ask yourself: am I offending others with my stench? Should I get this checked out by a physician? Would just carrying some stick deodorant in my car help out?

#2 Snotdude brought in the waitress to take our orders and to bring the cup of chicken soup that came with my meal. This is actually one of my pet peeves that I have thought about blogging on before – when people do that horrible inhaling of their snot so loudly and moistly that you know a huge loogey is either about to fly out their mouth or trickle down the back of their throat. In case you aren’t sure what I’m talking about, here’s a 23 second video of an Asian broad sucking it in like this fucking morbidly obese asshole did for a good portion of the time we were eating today:

Again, I can be understanding of someone that has a cold or allergies. But I’m allergic to everything and have a constant faucet of phlegm dribbling from my body – I think I might even be allergic to myself at this point and I don’t even do this. It’s horrifying – absolutely horrifying – to eat your chicken soup with a side of snot.

#3 Some old guy belching his name repeatedly came along just in time for one of the cooks to bring out our food. At this point you are probably thinking to yourself – what the fuck, was she eating at an Arby’s in the deep South? No, no… I was eating in what is generally considered to be a descent place (best pancakes in the country says Esquire magazine) and further someplace my dad and I meet at for lunch often.

At first I thought I was hearing things because the guy was sitting with what appeared to be his grandson and it just sounded like an accidental burp in which the man said the word “burp” while doing it. But a few minutes later, as I was biting into my BLT and thanking God that Smell Man and Snotdude had vacated the premises, an excessively audible belch was emitted from the same old guy, this time the word “Daryl” clearly included. He did it six more times before we left.

#4 And as if the experience could not have been any more revolting, as we walked out a Breastfeeder had popped out her tit to feed her screaming infant. Now before you get all crazy on me and start commenting in fury about how breastfeeding is a woman’s right and a beautiful thing, and how nothing but passionate flowers and exotic dairy come out of the lady’s tits, let me say a few things. First, shut the fuck up. Nothing is more annoying than one of these “breastfeeding is the most beautiful thing and a woman’s right in public”-people. Shut the fuck up. SHUT IT! Second, I don’t actually see anything wrong with breastfeeding in public, as long as it is done discreetly under a blanket or a breastfeeding bib. Third, if you choose not to use a blanket or bib, all bets are off.

If you choose to breastfeed in public but don’t use a blanket or bib, you are a fucking asshole and a public nudist. I’m not sure if I have told you all this story before, but quite a few months ago a woman sprayed me with her boob juice in a restaurant – a little drop of a complete stranger’s bodily fluids landing on my hand, forced to rest there until I was able to get it off in the bathroom. I get that a lot of people believe breastfeeding to be an awesome, beautiful, and natural thing – but there are a lot of things that others think are awesome, beautiful, and natural yet don’t do so openly in public out of respect for others (and in some cases, the law).

But if a woman breastfeeds publicly and in such a way that the entire world is now familiar with every crevice, crease, and montgomery gland on the woman’s nipple, why does she not get cited for public nudity like I would were I to – say – just take off my shirt and sit there with my boobs hanging out? Today I wouldn’t have minded doing that – it was a little warm in the booth and sometimes it’s nice to let my upper body breath. The biggest proponents of breastfeeding argue that “feeding your baby is vital for your baby’s survival.” Okay, sure – but there are bottles that your pumped milk can go into or breastfeeding bibs that can cover that shit up to be respectful of the eyesight and feelings of others, and to avoid any of your boob juice squirting on them as they walk by.

As with everything, there is a happy medium. Here’s a counterexample: allowing one’s bowels to move in a timely manner is also “… vital for … survival” but that doesn’t mean anyone and everyone can just pull down their pants and take a squat anywhere they want – right in the middle of public, where it can be seen and gotten all over everyone that passes by! And if I can rant one more second – the bull shit that women not breastfeeding because of the public’s view of doing it in public is just complete nonsense. There are so many options out there – most importantly, pumping and bottle-feeding in a public setting. There are plenty of times families use a bottle at home, why the fuck can’t they do it when they go out too? Oh I know, because it’s about proving a point and exposing your titties for the world to see.

But I digress…

The bottom line in all of this is that these people are all slobs – slovenly, lazy slobs. Smell man is too lazy to shower or use deodorant. Snotdude is too busy porking down his extra side of home fries to get up and blow his nose in the bathroom. Belching grandpa was just a pig, and breastfeeding tittie lady just didn’t want to be bothered with covering the kid with a blanket. If you have to go the incorrigible route and make a New Years Resolution this year, faithful blog followers, resolve to be less of a lazy fuck of a slob. Please … my appetite will thank you!