A New Years Resolution...

Have you ever done something wrong, and about halfway into doing whatever it is that you're doing, it dawns on you that maybe it wasn't such a great idea? That maybe, just maybe, you had a lapse in judgment? That the little voice inside your head that's not so little anymore is SCREAMING at you, "Get out! It's not too late! What are you doing with your life?"

Or maybe that's just me.

New Years Day, and I made a whole long list of resolutions for myself. Not so much resolutions, as things NOT to do this year.

Example:

1. Do not justify purchasing another pair of black leggings. You are ridiculous, Lorraine. You have 10 pairs hanging in your closet.

2. Do not eat dessert for breakfast. In fact, do not eat dessert at all. Sugar is not a food group, and it is partially the reason why you can't get rid of the cellulite, honey.

3. Do not forget to moisturize your skin before bed. Your skin will thank you in twenty years. Not to mention, you'll put every bitch to shame at your twenty year reunion.

4. Do not continue to run back to men (or, the man) who is commitment-phobic and who keeps running you around in circles like a race car driver at Nascar. Because the truth is, if you keep driving in circles, eventually you're going to have a Dale Earnhardt status crash. And that's one mess that nobody wants to help clean up.

So it baffles me that although I promised myself I'd stay away from my own real life "Mr.Big" because the odds of him ever actually coming through for me in any real way are slim to fucking none, I am going out of my way to spend HIS birthday with him. Which is, incidentally, the day before mine. The advantage is, if we're together, when it turns midnight, he won't have a choice but to remember my birthday. The disadvantage is, why in the fuck should I have to be right next to him for him to remember my special day?

How are we celebrating his day? With Wendy's (for him), a diet coke (for me), a cupcake I brought with me from Tammie Coe Cakes, and Training Day (a movie which entails hours of violence and excessive use of the "f" word. But hey, who am I to judge, right?)

Not exactly romantic, or even the way I'd like to ring in my OWN birthday.

I think I'll eat the cupcake, all by myself. ;)

I'm worth it.

And maybe this year, I'll keep tellin' myself that, until I finally listen...