Tuesday, December 25, 2012

I don't believe in New Year's resolutions, but if I did...

I don't believe in New Year's resolutions, but if I did, these would be mine...

- Learn to love tequila again. 
- Listen to a new song every day. 
- Stop listening to my favourite songs on loop. 
- Be kinder to gingers. They're people too. 
- Learn to speak German properly. Swear words don't count. 
- Stop asking people to roofie me when I can't sleep. 
- Stop trying to train my cats. 
- Bag you like groceries. (No, not you. YOU.) 
- Stop emotional cutting my hair. 
- Stop making emotional cutting jokes. 
- Stop making lists. 

*This list was made while listening to Imagine Dragons on loop*

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

2012: The year of everything and nothing

Yet another year has snuck by without being courteous enough to ask me if I was ready for it to end.

Part of me is ready for 2012 to exit quickly and quietly, and another part of me wants to hang onto this year forever.

2012 hasn't been about amazing trips (although I've had some of those), nor has it been about success (there’s been some of that too). It's been a year of absurd amounts of personal development. Bucket list stuff.

I had 3 wishes for this year. 3 wishes turned into 3 goals. 3 goals became 3 missions. 3 missions became 3 checked boxes.

Look, it hasn't been all plain sailing. I've been left with some scratches and scrapes, bumps and bruises, but none of them permanent. None of them regrets. Not a single one. Really, not even that thing I thought I would hate myself for.

I’ve kicked myself several times. I’ve had a couple of scares. I was mad as hell at myself for being so ill equipped to deal with them. I forgave myself quickly.

I’ve learnt countless lessons, some of which I am self-aware enough to learn from and some of which I am self-destructive enough to repeat. Some things don’t change!

Ok, now that I’ve got that out of the way, I have to focus a little on some frivolous (and some more serious) 2012 loves and hates…


My liver – I can hardly believe you stuck by me for yet another year. You’re stronger than I thought, kinder than I imagined, and probably more enlarged than I want to know about. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you, but regretfully, I won’t be making any new year’s resolutions to go easier on you.

My feet – If my liver thought it had been abused, it has nothing on the 2 of you. I’ve done terrible things to you. I’ve made you fit into cruel shoes that feet shouldn’t ever have to be exposed to, but you have to understand that mommy hurts you because she loves you. You should always look your best and I work very hard so that I can afford for you to be adorned and adored.

Skulls, studs and spikes – I’m sorry to everyone who has been injured in the process of hugging me this year. I promise that my obsession with skulls, studs and spikes is simply a fashion phase. It’s not a cause for worry and certainly not intervention-worthy. It also has nothing to do with the occult, an underground S&M circle or an indicator that I will be taking to the seas to become a pirate. This too shall pass…maybe.
The Radio - I'm already so lucky. I have a job that fuels me and fulfills me. A job that is so much more than a job. On top of this stroke of luck, I found a new passion in radio. Every Wednesday night from 7-10, I got to hang out with my BFF (forever ever), @spillly, listening to my favourite music, talking dirty and drinking beer.  


Opportunists – I have no intention of naming names, but you know who you are. You think everything’s about you anyway, so I can’t imagine why this would slip by you. Douche.

Getting older – I refuse to be one of those people who age gracefully. Fuck that. I’m fighting back, hard. I’m 34 and I’m actually totally ok with that. It’s not about the number. It’s about the more severe hangovers, the ever-increasing recovery time required, the hint of laugh lines (Yes, I know the lines on your face tell stories. Whatever! I call bullshit.). I’m not taking this lying down, so I will continue to push my body and make it do whatever I tell it to (refer to aforementioned statement regarding not involving my liver in any New Year’s resolutions).

The Sticker Family – In a world where we can land on Mars, jump from space and have ginger celebrities (sorry @spillly), why the absolute fuck (thanks @MegPascoe) are we now putting little stick figure families on the back of our cars? Take that shit off. NO ONE CARES! I guarantee it’s increasing the incidence of road rage.

Dubstep – I just can’t like it. I’m never going to. Please don’t ask me to.
The Treadmill - I want you to know how much I hate you. Nobody should have to run nowhere at high speed while staring at a sea of spandex. I've made peace with you, but I'm never going to love you.

All in all, it's been a remarkable year filled with the best people and over the top fun. Thanks so much to every one of you who has made memories with me, called me on my bullshit, told me I'm better than some of the silly things I've done, treated me with respect and kindness, laughed at my jokes, got me, put up with me when I've been grumpy, shared their sleeping pills with me when I've been unthinkably tired, drunk copious amounts of beer with me, let me feed them doo doo shots against their better judgement, made me laugh, not made me cry, encouraged me, put up with my sad sick cat stories, stopped me from cutting more of my hair off, told me the truth and trusted me with their weirdness. 

Truly, if the Mayans get their way, I'm ending on a high note.