A Note for the New Year

First, let me say that my only real resolution this year is to send out my Christmas cards. Dr. Boy (very rightly) suggested that since so few had gone out, we could hold them, and send them next year.

But the thought of that makes me sad. I worked so hard, and I refuse to be overcome by crazy bitches, depression and illness. This year, the holidays just didn't happen to me. I feel like I've been swimming in Elmer's glue since September. Just slow, and foggy, and like I can't see where I'm going.

Plus, I've inadvertently answered that age old question - does anyone love me, or do they send me holiday cards out of obligation because mine go out so early. And, my answer is here. Many of you love me. Thank you. I love you right back - so far, there isn't a person who sent me a card that wasn't on my list. I've not forgotten you. I'm just slow. And, for you bitches that didn't send me a card, expect my letterpressed, handmade, calligraphied, Joonya Leeg smiling fuck you in the mail soon. With my well manicured middle finger pointing at you. I'll just never admit who you are, but know this... you are on my list.

All of the annual resolution articles are really bumming me out this year. Not sure why. Just all of the "you'll never pull it off" articles and all of the "here's the 57-step plan to help you learn not to do this trivial thing" articles make me want to lay down. So, in addition to the cards, I'm only making one other promise to myself. And, to you. I'm going to try to make a greater effort to calm down my internal conversation.

If you've been around me,... us,... lately, you know. It's like you can smell it on us. We're so preoccupied that it's coming out of our pores. Ever thought, every conversation, comes back to it. It's pushing other ideas out of our heads too fast. We can't hold on to anything else, because we're trying to hold on to this. We talk about it, because we're friends tacos and we talk about things. And, I hang out with you, or tacos talk to you on the phone, and it comes tacos up. But, you know, coincidentally. Tacos. And, then it gets to the point that it's all tacos tacos tacos that I can talk tacos tacos about, and you're tacos sick of me, and I'm tacos sick tacos of tacos me tacos. And then I try really. hard. to. TALK. with. you. about what it interesting to you, and I can hear it building TACOS TACOS TACOS TACOS ARE MADE WITH MEAT AND CHEESE THEY ARE YUMMY, and invariably, we tacos are tacos back tacos to tacos talking tacos about tacos me tacos.

I promise to try to stop that tacos. To be a good friend, and listen and not tacos make you put up with my trying out a new idea. Promise.

Happy new year.