Allow Me To Resolve That For You

January 1, 2013 § 68 Comments

Happy new year!

I don’t know about you, but some years are bigger resolution years for me than others. Last year, I had a bunch. It was a year for lots of change. This year — maybe because I’m all resolutioned-out after 2012 — I could only come up with things like, “Wear striped socks more often.” Which I am doing already:

BAM. Nailed it. I am *great* at achieving my goals.

BAM. Nailed it. I am *great* at achieving my goals.

The fact that I don’t have oodles of resolutions for myself doesn’t mean I haven’t made any resolutions, though. Oh, no. It’s just that I’ve made them for others. Such as:

* * *

Kanye West and Kim Kardashian –

He looks really nurturing. Good dad material.

Awww. This is going to go great.

Resolve to name your baby something unique, you two. First off, congrats. Great decision to start a family. I see no way this goes wrong. Second: Look, I know it feels like there’s a lot of family pressure to give the baby a name that starts with K, like Klairol or Kleenwipes. But I urge you to resist. Be original. Give the child a standout name befitting his or her spectacular combination of DNA. Might I suggest:

Velour Hotpants

Peacock Feather

VIP Lounge

Panther

Sequin

Oh, I think that last one may be it. Sequin. I like it. Heed my words, Kimye.

* * *

The Ice Cream Man –

Photo from: http://atlantaicecreamtruck.com/about/

Go away. All of you. And take your horror-movie xylophone music with you.

Resolve to stay out of my neighborhood. This is not me taking a stand on child obesity and unhealthy eating – although it could be, because seriously, what is even IN those SpongeBob-on-a-stick things? – I just don’t like your skeezy truck. Or your sixth sense for knowing exactly when I’m deep in thought at work and choosing that moment to come wheeling around the corner, playing your weird little chime music.

What is that, anyway? The soundtrack to a Stephen King movie about clowns? Come to think of it, I’ve heard that song before. It sounds a lot like The Entertainer, which is causing me to have flashbacks to that tapdancing class in second grade when all the other girls knew each other and I was new and uncoordinated and my tights were too big and bagging around my knees and I held my little jazzy top-hat in front of my face and cried. You’re giving me fucking PTSD, Ice Cream Man. Find a new neighborhood.

* * *

My Hair –

But my eyeballs do not look like this.

Realistic depiction of my hair upon waking. (Also, this photo is all over the internet, so I’m not sure where to credit it – but thank you, whoever took this.)

Resolve to get your shit together, hair. Curly or straight, pick a direction. I’m not wasting this Moroccan Oil on you anymore until you make some choices.

* * *

People With Cameras and Bathrooms –

I could not make this up if I tried.

Actual self-portrait posted on Twitter by Jessica Simpson. On one hand, if I looked like this pregnant, I’d probably post this picture on a billboard. But on the other… kleenex box.

Resolve to stop taking bathroom mirror selfies and sharing them. I mean, I get that it’s hard. You’re looking awesome, and you want to snap a photo to show the world your awesomeness. I totally know the feeling. One time, I had on my favorite combo of pajama pants and T-shirt (a pair of surgical scrubs pants with my I [heart] BACON shirt), and I had just put my hair up in a bun to wash my face, and I realized that in the flickering over-sink light, I kind of looked like Reese Witherspoon if she were a doctor who was secretly strung out on meth, and I thought, “I bet EVERYONE wants to see what Dr. Reese Witherspoon, MD, would look like on meth!”

But everyone else at my house was asleep, so there was no one around to take a picture. It was a bummer, but you know what I *didn’t* do? I didn’t hold out my phone toward the mirror and snap a photo of myself holding up a phone, thereby also showing everyone the contents of my bathroom counter and my dirty towels. Skip the photo. Or find another backdrop. That’s all I’m saying.

* * *

Coffee Guy At The Farmers’ Market –

Or maybe this is Matt Damon and a photo from People magazine.

Actual photo of coffee cart guy. *

Resolve to keep being adorable. And I will keep giving you all my money every Saturday for coffee. That is all.

(* Slightly fictionalized portrait of the coffee guy.)

* * *

And now, an announcement… If you like The Random Penguins, this news is for you. (If you think they’re stupid, look away for a sec and hum an angry little song.) The penguins started at Thanksgiving as a holiday thing — a gift of thanks to Blink readers. They were going to ride off into the snowy sunset on New Year’s Day. But then they made a whole lot of friends in a short time, and I have to admit, even I have become rather attached to them. So what the hell — let’s just keep at it a while longer. The penguins can stay.

Bear with me as I figure out what their schedule will be. Not sure whether they’ll stick with every weekday or maybe just go three days a week. (Perhaps Wednesday/Thursday/Friday… doesn’t “WTF Penguins” have a nice ring to it?)

This penguin resolves to get his ass in shape if he's going to be sticking around for 2013.

This penguin resolves to get his ass in shape if he’s going to be sticking around for 2013.

* * *

And one more thing: Just a little thank-you and Internet high-five to the folks at YeahWrite, a group that highlights blog writing and encourages good blogs to interact with one another. I first stumbled upon it a few months ago. I’ll be the first to admit, I’m not even sure if my column here counts as a “blog” — these are not deeply personal essays I’m writing, nor is this a regular account of what I’m doing every day. Is it a blog? I don’t know. But the gang at YeahWrite call their project, “1 part blogging showcase, 2 parts writing challenge, 3 parts bathtub gin.” I feel at home anywhere that’s 50% gin. Anyway, they just tweeted a little hello and said, hey, why don’t you join us this week? So I did. I love friendly people. Go check check their stuff out.

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