2011 Resolutions

So, here's the deal people: it's a tradition of mine to go through all the resolutions I made last year, and see if I achieved them all. And this year, I feel like I owe everyone an explanation as to why my numbers game did not go as expected, and why I have to re-enact that resolution next year.... but, it's New Years Eve, and I don't have a plan. The night is gonna be pure epicness (or so I'm trying to convince myself of) and therefore in the spirit of keeping an optimistic mood, I shall leave my negative banter about 2010 for another time and concentrate on the year ahead.

In my bedroom I have a whiteboard that I've owned for the better part of 10 years. It's one of my outlets, and basically, you could take one glance at it and know what I'm trying to accomplish that given week, and what's bothering me. Like a canvas for my doodles. Currently it holds my resolutions, written as follows:

-find a natural high (love counts, because, you love love)
-it's not all about you... acknowledge that (most of it is though)
-get a "real job: that you most likely hate, but looks good on paper
-find a fun part time job/volunteer position to re-establish yourself
-there better be a damn good reason you're in bed before midnight!
-be yourself, if that means a "bitch", then so be it

That's at least the jist of them. I'd also like to:
-remember to act like you're 5 (danceparties, go carts, singing, playground, swimming, lazer tag ect
-save close to $10,000, or buy a motorcycle
-go on a rockstar cruise or a hot vacation or a US roadtrip
-avoid Ontario like the plague
-get a real website so this post is more amusing

And my last rule: this past year I tried to get in touch with my feelings and be a nicer person. I tried to condition myself with jumping jacks to prevent myself from saying what's on my mind and hurting people's feelings. By bottling stuff up, I turned into a pathetic weepy female who has no personality, no social life, and scares off men.
In 2011, I have a no crying rule so if you see me shed a tear, I have to do 100 jumping jacks.
*sidenote* if after the 150 jumping jacks, I happen to still be crying, I will continue doing jumping jacks till I smarten the fuck up.
*punishment* no Jack for 72hrs if rule is disobeyed. (someone hold me to this)

Anyway, yeah, Happy New Years Eve - do it up!

Expectations

I often make fun of people who settle for others; especially in relationships. You see couples like them all the time, the boy who's not good-looking enough to have walked in with that "bombshell"; the girl who's trying too hard to please the boy she's with, even though he's prolly just using her for sex, and sleeping around on the side. I sing these people the "lowered expectations" tune from old-school mad tv. It's like the self-respect issue people talk about, where settling is not an option.

But, in this blog, I want to focus on the other side of things. The people who's expectations are so incredibly high, nothing will ever measure up to them. They think they're too good for everything and everyone, are never incorrect, and as a result, they tend to be less happy on as day-to-day basis.

I, myself fall into the 2nd part of this equation, and tend to live in my own idealistic world. My thoughts reside in a fairy tale land where life is always grand and everyone surpasses my expectations. In this world, people arrive early and pleasantly surprise you all the time. When you think of perfect events, down to the weather and the music playing in the background, that is in fact my diluted sense of reality. It's like I live in a cheesy romance novel written specifically for me. In my world, the sun may as well always be shining and everyone could be on an e-like high, skipping around like smurfs to their themesong. Shit, I may as well throw in a unicorn.

But this year, I discovered more than ever, that the world I physically live in, the "real world" as they call it, likes to shatter my fantasy world on a regular basis. Shit, even the smurfs eventually have felt fear and run away from Gargamel and his cat. So why is it that I try so hard to avoid everything that isn't pure perfection?
Anyway, as a result of this blog, my question is,
"How do I start living more-so in reality, so that I stop getting hurt, when my day doesn't turn out IDEAL?"

The Christmas Thang

Everyone has their own shit going on when it comes to Christmas. That's the way it's supposed to be. Your own ridiculous meals and traditions with those that mean the most to you.
My father called me from Ontario for the first time in months to ask me if I had gone to confession and if I'm looking forward to midnight mass. Knowing full well that I wouldn't've gone just for the sake of it, I think the purpose of that phone call was to get me frustrated or upset during the holiday season, because that is in fact tradition.
But I have my own holiday tradition: On Christmas eve afternoon, I like to walk across the street to Daves Liquor Store, and spend a ridiculous amount of money on various liquors that will be used during the upcoming weeks for Christmas cocktails. I then, gather with my roommates and whoever else wants to be involved and we spend all day watching the fireplace channel on tv (except the one that is on this year sucks balls and I'm gonna have to write a strongly worded letter to shaw).
We wait until midnight to open presents, or else the night seems meaningless, then in a drunken stooper we go to the park across the street to take dirty Christmas photos with the lights display.
This years Christmas went a bit differently, but along with caroling to myself, I also skanked frequently to spread the Christmas spirit, but more on that later.

Lameness.

My big New Years resoultion for 2011, is to get a life.

I've realized that over the course of 2010, I've gone from like a 4/10 in lameness, because I didn't have any friends, and don't enjoy "clubbing" ect in the city of Calgary, to like a 9/10... for no good reason at all.

I met my boy towards the end of January at last call, having followed a guy in a kilt into a bar I hadn't ventured to before. One thing lead to another, I hung out with my new boy till 5am that first night.
FFWD to the last few months of my life, I don't even know when the last time I was out past midnight was. Let alone not in-bed before 1am. There has been no random bars, and not even the meeting of strangers. Heck, I had a party this past weekend, and even then, having tried my hardest, I made it until 12:15am, then passed out in my own lameness, fully clothed with people still at the house.

My numbers game has failed miserably and will have to be re-attempted next year with another wind of positive attitude, because this lame thing, is totally not part of who I am. I'm up late today (it's 12:30am right now), but doing awesome things? nah. I'm stepping outside of my room to glance at a moon because I'm getting txts of a lunar eclipse. If these txts weren't keeping me up, I'd be sleeping right now.

And we could say lameness is allowed, as it's a Monday night. But truth be told, I have no job to go to in the morning, so that's a bullshit excuse. And oh, my life just hit a 10/10 on the lameness scale. My mom's msging me on msn. She lives in Ontario and it's 2:30am there. Even she's got the willpower to stay up past my bed-time.