Resolved: We will prove that you can teach an old dog new tricks

Resolution time. A new year. A NEW year. I thought of just making one resolution, and seeing what I could do with it. Then I decided, screw that. Go big or stay home. If I complete all of them, I will be a god. If I do some of them, I will be a success. If I do none of them, I will still keep trying.



New Years Resolutions, 2009 Style (in categories, and sometimes, subcategories)

Weight: Lose Some. Enough to make a difference to my overall health. Lofty goal of 100 pounds by then end of 2009. Which should get me off BP meds, which would be really nice. To achieve this goal, substantial work will be involved. I will have to do some downright unspeakable things, namely diet and exercise (gasp). I will even have to keep doing them when I don't want to. Why is life so cruel? Subgoal: to kick Kelly's ass and make her fly my ass out to Portland so she can be my bitch.

Money: Save some. Have to get better at this budgeting thing, especially now that I am a homeowner. Which means I need to cut back on the frivolous spending. This should help me to pay for Kelly's ticket to Boston in the event she trounces my ass.

Substance: Less reality TV. In fact less TV in general. More reading and writing. No rithmatic, thankyouverymuch. 52 books this year. Yup, one a week. Thanks, Jen. And blogging. It cleanses me, makes me more able to function when I spew the venom about whatever is pissing me off, and makes me more grateful for whatever is making me happy, when I share these things with the 'world'.

Organization: We moved this year, so my shit is in chaos. My garage is like a war zone in Fallujah. And before I can organize that shit and move it to is spot in the house, I have to organize the shit that actually made it through the doors. I need you, Nate Berkus!!! Clean Sweep my shit! I need some clear totes and a label maker, stat! When life is chaos, it makes me uneasy and when life is organized I have that inner peace that people meditate to get. Lists harness my Chi. What can I say, I have some issues.

Marital Bliss: In short, I need to give up the ass more often. Sorry to be crass about it, but there is no way to flower up that shit. I have, for far too long, let my weight and how I feel about my own body, put a damper on my marital duties. I am a lucky bitch. I have a ready, willing, able and eager husband, who after 13 years, two kids and 180 pounds, still wants to nail me.....regularly. I need to get over my 'whah whah, I don't look good naked' attitude and just have me some sex!

I think that ought to cover it.

A lot? Yup.

Overwhelming? Hellz yes.

Doable? Debatable.

Worth it? You can bet my skinny, savings account having, well read, organized, much handled ass it will be.

And in the beginning, there was Weight

And God said "Let there be weight loss." And then I was thin. And all was right with the world.

And then I woke up. And since I had done nothing to change my weight, nothing had changed. Apparently there would be no divine intervention. No miracle. No act of God. Then what? An act of Me, perhaps.

It is 12/31/08. The last day of the year. Tomorrow is the first day of 2009, the last year of this decade. By the end of it, I will be 35 years old. One husband, two kids, two cats, an office job, house in the burbs, white picket fence (no shit, I am serious). And according to my trusty Taylor Lithium Biggest Loser Edition Accurate to 400 Pounds Digital scale, I am at present 366 pounds. Fuck that. Not my heaviest. It means I have been able to keep off three pounds. Fuck that, I say.

Rewind 6 months or so and I was all inspired talk about how I was changing my life, for better or worse, in sickness and in health, so that death doesn't part me from the world. Guns blazing, I jumped head first into all of it: Weight Watchers, exercise, the boards, the mantras, all of it. I stayed strong for half of the summer and then I made vacation my excuse. The latest in a long list of excuses, I assure you. Babies, birthdays, holidays, shitty days, change of job, change of scene, change of clothes. Whatever was handy, that was my excuse. I "tried" to get back into it in the middle of September, while I was in mid home purchasing hell. It was not a valiant effort, nor was it a fruitful one. And then I just stopped. Stopped carrying my WW book around, stopped bringing my own lunch, ever. Stopped going to the website, stopped talking to my WW peeps. Stopped doing anything that might remind me of my own weakness and frailty and ultimate FAILURE.

I got an message last week from my girl, Kelly (aka Drill Sgt Shrink A Bootie). Coming back? Yup. It's that time of year after all. The time for resolutions, new beginnings, fresh starts. Time for starting over or just starting. Time heals all wounds, time after time, time's up. Time. Here it is. Make your decision. Move forward? Stand still? Stay on the fence for another year? Yes, Kelly. I am coming back.

A thought occurred to me. What if I really followed the program this time? Like, no bullshit, followed it. All the guidelines, not just the ones I like. Eat all the points. Do the exercise. Do the work. Like Nike says, Just Do It. But there is the ever present 'IF' factor. What 'IF' I try and fail. What 'IF' I can't do it. 'IF' only it were easier. You are right, Kelly. For this to work there is no IF. And yes, I know I can do it.

So while there is no divine intervention, what could be more divine that working hard and reaping the benefits. In the beginning, there was weight...................