A New Year, A New
Set of Ramblings
It’s a new year. Ugh. All this pressure to turn ourselves
into better people via lofty resolutions? Yeah, I don’t think so. That sounds
like too much work. Instead of “resolutions,” I prefer to go with
“absolutions.” I will absolve myself of guilt for looking forward to so many
less-than-honorable upcoming events of 2011. Like the fact the Britney Spears
has a new album coming out. Seriously, I’m practically peeing with excitement.
Although this is not nearly as exciting as the time that she shaved her head,
because that was ridiculously entertaining. I mean, in a sad, mentally
unstable, scary way. But nonetheless… it was awesome. I still dream about it…
the way her eyes bugged out of her head as she wielded the electric razor,
flashing her new tattoo all over the place… Bliss! Oh, so maybe there will be
an equally thrilling celebrity scandal this year! Maybe Khloe Kardashian will
shave her head next. Or beat up Kim and Kourtney. Or start spelling her name
with a “C” the way it should be because she has finally had enough. She’d have
a spectacular breakdown, yes? So I absolve myself of any delight that I might
take in any celebrity firestorm.
“American Idol” is starting soon. I’m gonna watch. I know, I
know. It’s a tragedy, but I don’t care. It’s the only reality show that I can’t
quit. Jennifer Lopez is so hideously annoying, and her singing makes my ears
bleed, but both of these factors mean that I will not be able to tear myself
away from this disaster. (Side note: Was “Jenny From the Block” not the most annoying, self-serving song
ever? “Hi, I make millions per year for being an idiot, but I can tie a rag on
my head, throw on some big ol’ hoop earrings, and pretend that I’m just a gal
off the streets!” Barf.) And Steven Tyler is… Well, look, he’s Steven f’ing
Tyler. I just have to see how he ended up on this show. So, there. I will not
feel badly about myself for cranking up the volume while watching AI.
Also, despite getting my coveted Wii Fit, I will not hate
myself if I do not workout seven days a week. Or even five days. Or four. Fine,
four would be smart, but setting goals only sets one up for failure.
I want to try to blog more, but the world will not come to
an end if I don’t. Author Heather Webber has the right idea by doing short daily blog post. If I weren’t so
lazy, I might be able to muster up the wherewithal to get this done. Maybe I
will, maybe I won’t, but I won’t resolve
to this. Speaking of Heather, I am totally looking forward to the third book in
her Lucy Valentine series, Absolutely,
Positively. Lucy Valentine brings psychic powers to her job at her parents’
matchmaking business. I probably
have some sort of writer crush on Heather, but I honestly adore everything she
writes, and this series in particular is so adorable and perfect for all ages.
Romance, mystery, charming characters, paranormal elements (done very well!),
and plenty of humor. Anyhow, she does everything right, so I should model my
blog behavior after her.
Other guilt-inducing behaviors that I will absolve myself
of:
-Eating chips with salsa and guacamole as a meal.
-Shoveling the bare minimum amount of snow to just squeeze
the car out of the driveway and then fretting that the neighbors think that I’m
a lazy jerk who does not care that her driveway looks wretched. Tough.
Shoveling stinks, and I usually cry at least once while hacking away at a
snowplowed pile of ice chunks. Bare. Minimum. And I will be proud of that.
-Reheating the same cup of coffee thirty times in a day. I
like doing this. Yes, it’s gross, but I find it comforting for some reason. Sue
me.
-Checking my Amazon sales numbers 56 times a day. Pathetic,
yes? Go ahead. Ask anyone who has self-published and they’ll tell you the same
thing. We’re all addicts. I like knowing that on January 1st I sold
three copies of Facebooking Rick
Springfield, one copy of Relatively
Famous, and two copies of What the
Kid Says. It’s fun. Traditional publishing doesn’t give you that
minute-by-minute information, so we are all glued to our accounts hoping for
big numbers. Um, not that those are terribly big numbers… but one can
hope. I won’t be embarrassed about
my obsessive logging in.
-On a slightly more serious note: Being a slow writer. It
takes me a long time to plan out a book, and an especially long time to write
the first third. I’m slow and methodical, and I like to write cleanly. I envy
writers that can whip out a book in two or three months, but I have to accept
that I just don’t roll that way. When I really get into the book and have the
feel and pace down, I can crank it out like nobody’s business. But the early
stages for me are dreadfully slow, and I have to stop beating myself up about
that. Right now I have a book idea that’s been stewing in my head for quite
some time, and it’s finally ready for me to really map it out. I’m simply not
going to rush myself. It will take however long it takes.
In the meantime I will be busy absolving myself of my other
sins. Now, pass the salsa…
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