| The era of New Year’s resolutions comes to many each year. The media floods television and radio with self-help and weight loss ads. I’ve given much thought to this year’s self-imposed wishes--though this diatribe could go on for pages, I’ve decided to condense my goals for this year into five key elements.
1) More self-loathing.
2) Refusing to use multi-syllabic words.
3) Giving in to more social norms.
4) Caring less about my fellow man.
5) Eat more pie.
First and foremost in my goals to a new and improved version of myself would definitely be more self loathing--I really feel that there are more deplorable parts of myself that I have not yet explored. Weight issues not withstanding, I have a veritable cornucopia of issues that are, as of yet, unchecked. A prime example would be my penchant for trying to please others, or perhaps, my love of arts and crafts. If one more work colleague calls me Martha Stewart, I just may have to defenestrate myself.
Also I will have to start editing my vocabulary. Who says defenestrate on a daily basis? I have also allowed outside forces guide my word choices. Why would I think it is socially acceptable to think others have watched Farscape, let alone understand what the frell or dren I am talking about, or even understand the length of a microt? Even worse, I have allowed literature to influence my diction--how very “Dursley” of me to be so easily swain. Could I be more of a loser? Etymologists are definitively ‘out’ this season, and no one--other than myself--cares to learn the origin of the phrase “the whole nine yards.” I am quite the eccentric…wait…let me try this: what a freak I am.
Yes, this self-loathing thing is going to work quite nicely.
I have decided to also add more conformity to my daily life. Far too often, I catch myself struggling to keep my meals down when my office mates discuss Survivor, or what is happening to Jessica and Nick--or is it Nick-ica? There has to be something to this blind, stupid faith in mass media. I can’t go wrong in following popular culture, I mean, if more people voted for last year’s American Idol, than voted for the new American President come on, that’s saying something!
Social causes are also no longer hip. Gone are the days of Hands across America, and LIVE Aid. They are rarely televised, and seldom paid attention to. Save for a few radicals like Angelina Jolie, most people would rather spend their time making illicit, er, rather, “skanky” home movies. (This language thing is going to be more difficult than I thought.) Though I digress, the days of social welfare and environmental concern are behind us. Now, all I need to do is get a Chihuahua, dress it in “bling” and concern myself with climbing social and corporate ladder. I’ll need to see how I can fit self-deprecation in there as well.
Whew, with all this work, I am truly going to work up quite an appetite. Therein, my final goal for 2006 is eating more pie. Admittedly, my weakest of all resolutions, but I thought that since most years I set unreasonable goals for myself, I should toss this one in as my annual failure resolution. If I set myself up with one automatic failure, I just know I will be successful with all the rest of my goals.
Here’s to a year filled with mindless, selfish conformity with a keen sense of how worthless I truly am.
Happy New Year, folks.
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This is Traci Matson's debut to the footnote, and we're trying to enjoy that "new contributor smell" while it's still there. |
the footnote is an online publication featuring the talents of authors that write for the fun of it, plus a few others that we've chained to laptops and force to type by using electric shocks. You'll mostly see essays here that make observations about every day life and topics, both "funny" and "not so funny," along with some pieces that even get as far as "really damn strange." To learn more about us, you can visit the page that's sneakily titled "About the 'note." |
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