Friday, January 1, 2010

Break out the champagne!!

It's a new year! Actually, a whole new decade--2010, which I was pronouncing "two thousand and ten" until I read this article and learned that I'm supposed to be saying "twenty ten."

Really. There's a facebook page and everything. Two of them, in fact. I thought about joining one or both, but then I remembered that would require me to actually log in to my facebook, which would cause me to see the 96 messages and five million assorted requests I haven't replied to so I decided to pour a glass of champagne instead.

As the 1st day of "Twenty ten" we, the good citizens of the United States, are legally required by the Pledge of Allegiance/ Constitution/ every magazine article I've read in the past two weeks to compile a list of New Year's Resolutions. At least one of these resolutions must be a vow to lose weight and/or join a gym.

B.O.R.I.N.G. Maybe I'm just getting old and cynical, but this whole resolution thing just seems tired to me. Why don't people make more exciting promises? Or, at the very least, resolve to do stuff that's bad for them?

Julie's New Year's Resolutions

1.) Watch more TV. Like, 10-15 hrs a week. (Disney channel does NOT count) Because I'm tired of having no clue what people are talking about, particularly when it comes to who got eliminated on American Idol.

2.) Get my own gun (preferably pink) because my husband's are too heavy.

3.) Use gun to shoot chickens who refuse to die and keep pooping all over everything.

4.) Stop volunteering at daughter's school. It's never enough, so why keep putting out the effort? Sit home and eat bon-bons; that's what they assume I'm doing anyway.

5.) Read more trashy magazines, specifically "Stars Without Makeup" and "Worst Beach Bodies" articles to boost self-esteem.

6.) Curse more.

Stacey's New Year's Resolutions:

Damn, this is fracking hard. Unlike Julie, I already curse plenty and have no desire to own a gun or shoot chickens. We're not allowed to have chickens in my new apartment. (I'm sure if we were and if my husband insisted on owning chickens, then I'd probably want to shoot them too.)

But I do like the idea of low stress New Year's resolutions...

1. Delete my myspace page because I hate myspace. I always have and I'm tired of this abusive relationship in which I hate it and it still continues to exist.

2. Wear my boots in the house and dirt-worries be damned. I like wearing my boots. They give me the delusion that I might actually be in charge around here. (I'm easily influenced by footwear.)

3. Stop cleaning up my sons' toys. They just get pulled out again the next day. Why bother? I will live in a huge playpen and not worry about stepping on small plastic things that kill my feet because I will be wearing boots. (See #2)

4. Buy more boots to wear in the house.

5. Spend my money on new tattoos and buy my baby bargain formula. (He's supposed to be transitioning to milk anyway, but he refuses to give up his Enfamil. Big baby. Of course it could be some sort of baby crack the formula companies put in the powder to keep infants addicted to the age of three and thusly earn themselves more money, so perhaps I shouldn't judge the little turd so harshly.)

6. Spend more time indulging my conspiracy theories and writing angry letters.

7. Be late. When you're early you just sit there waiting for everyone else who's always late and wasting time you could be spending writing angry letters or walking around your toy-filled apartment in boots.

So what about you? Any low-stress resolutions?

Back soon for more ZIT in 2010,

Julie and Stacey

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