Adventure, Bucket List, Change, Holiday Season, Life, New Year, Resolution, Weight Loss, Yoga

2014 Resolved

Happy New Year, everyone! You ever notice how people write “New Years” with the “s” at the end? That drives me fucking bananas. There it is. My first published curse of 2014. It’s good to be alive.

I almost hate those days between the day after Christmas and New Year’s Eve. They are forgotten days where we all scramble for no good reason. That’s when the top 20 mash-up remix of all the top songs are played over and over again on the radio ( because people still listen to the radio and LOVE mashup remixes!). There is also the magic of BuzzFeed to let you know the greatest kitten moments of 2013 and Instagram’s tribute to your top liked pictures… etc. It’s a great way to reflect on 2013 without having to think too much, but still be sentimental (but not really).


Gratuitous Kitten Picture

I don’t like to make resolutions, because I don’t keep them. I get over it after about a week… BUT THIS YEAR WILL BE DIFFERENT! I say that every year with the greatest of intentions. Somehow, as I do every year, I hope this year is different, but can’t promise myself that it will be.


A Happy Homie.

January 5 started a very long wagon ride for me. I can’t tell you how depressing my lazy 2-week vacation was and how much beer and cheese I consumed. My big plan is to detox for a bit and lose about 60 million pounds by February. I know this is unrealistic, but most New Years resolutions are, so I am in a sense, being realistic.



When I started writing this blog, I had no idea how it would make me feel; how much sleep I would lose writing things in my head all night, how angry I’d be at myself in the morning for forgetting all the ideas I had just before my dreams hit, how much guilt I’d feel when I take too long to write anything, and and that overwhelmed feeling I get when I have too many rough drafts in the queue (queue is a hard word to know how to spell correctly the first time!). I really didn’t think this blog would be a thing past one or two posts, but I find it to be a nice outlet for whatever it is that ails me, as well as my incredible sense of sarcasm, wit, self-humiliation, and Captain Clam updates. Last year I wrote 38,291 words. This year, I want to write 100,000 words. It sounds like a lot, but it really isn’t that much, not for a long-winded clam lover like myself.


Since I will be writing open letters to the universe so much in the next year, I really need to learn how to type properly. I have no idea how that lesson never crossed my educational path, but it’s probably time to figure that one out. I also would like to explore different writing techniques… I mean you probably don’t want to hear me bitching all of the time, right? Over the 2 week holiday, Captain Clam and I watched 652 documentaries. I do believe it was out of guilt for being so lazy (we now want to be Organic Dairy Farmers and smuggle Raw Milk into Georgia). These movies somehow motivated me to want to read more books this year (like actual page turning ink-on-paper books (because I like it old school)). Reading more is bound to improve my writing skills, and help me stop wasting time (did you catch the pun in there?). I will also consider magazines since they break up their words with pictures and little captions that I enjoy reading.


Another gratuitous Cat picture.

Captain Clam and I bought a scrabble board from Rite-Aid over the holiday and promised each other to play more Scrabble. Of course we have NEVER played Scrabble together (ever), so then we simply promised each other to play it. Unfortunately, he has refused to play, so I have thus promised myself to be awesome and play alone as two people with their own agenda. I have been begging him to play all evening each night and even bribed him with a Netflix romantic comedy about British people road tripping (his pick). Within the first 15 minutes, a man was run over and killed by a camper. I will never fully understand British humor.


Scrabble Dabble.

Captain Clam and I have been talking about doing some yoga. He showed me how he can lie on his back and bend his body in half, touching his toes to the floor above his head. I was jealous, so I tried it too. The result was not as inspiring and I quit before my back started cramping. I kinda just want to do yoga so I can show that Clam up. I used to do Wai Lana Yoga on (surprise!) Netflix, but then I got lazy and they stopped streaming it. It really was a great exercise in stretching, relaxation, and spirituality… three things that we both could really use in our lives this year. I’m hoping a burst in movement will inspire me to stop being a lazy cow….


Yoga for Beginners and Clams alike.

Which brings me to the hardest wish ever…I’d like to be nicer to myself. As a woman, I am my own worst critic and enemy. It’d be nice to either suck it up and create the me that I want, or just be happy with who I am. I have resolved (for the time being) to stop complaining and just take life in stride with a smile on my face (since we all look so much better with a smile on).


And I Love YOU!

Moving on…. Captan Clam and I need to move. We will do so this year, hopefully before the winter thaws out. We are looking into my old neighborhood, or somewhere nearby so I can fulfill one of my favorite wishes, which is to spend more time with my friends. The last year and a half I have been lost in Brooklyn, and not in a good way. I look forward to making up for wasted time and getting to know new people who love and admire the same people that I do. A move would also help us clear our closets and heads. We can start over by simplifying our belongings and getting rid of clutter.

Once the Captain and I relocate, we can blow this Popsicle stand for the mountains in summer or white sandy beaches where everyone speaks Spanish. I need a real vacation. It’s been too long that I have been away where it didn’t involve seeing any of my family members or sleeping on a couch. We both need to get away so we can start having more realistic dreams and a broader theory of our own personal existence.


Paradise might be nice.

With all that said, I would also like to learn how to speak Spanish so I can have a more authentic time on vacation and I can also pretend not to understand what is going on in the workroom at my job as opposed to actually having no clue as to what the workers are saying.

This year I also need to get my hands on Troll 2. As part of my documentary-filled holiday, I came across an informational film about this cult movie. As a fan of really good bad movies, this is clearly a must see and I must see it.


As far as my obvious Netflix addiction goes… I’d like to nip that quickly and waste my time making art or cooking delicious meals. While documentaries and ridiculous movies are alright, every night spent in front of a computer screen is not cool, especially when most of my day is spent rotting at a computer screen as well. In an effort to cultivate more of my hobbies, I have requested quotes from various voice coaches for singing lessons. If the budget allows, I’ll invite you all to my first show and check off one of the things on my To-Do List.


Along with saving money for moving and my fancy vacation, I’d love to have this awful tramp stamp removed from my ass crack. Twelve years ago I was much braver than I realized. My braveries now consist of considering the possibility of changing my hair… like getting bangs or letting the grey grow in. Or I want another tattoo and fear I have one too many. I have no idea. But what I know is that this horror story needs to go!


Somehow a fart joke seemed appropriate here…

It would seem that we need to save a lot of money this year. My horoscope has told me that it is the YEAR for saving for Sagittarius, so I have decided to fall into a Facebook/Pinterest trap and go ahead and run my luck on a jelly jar and this:

I do not think I will save $1,378, but I have named the jar “Adventure Fund” and can’t wait to see where this jar and 2014 will take me. So here’s a toast to a New Year to all of you. May it be better than 2013 was (since 2013 can kiss my ass).


Loving puns.

Pedicure, Things to Do, Yoga

Have You Touched Your Toes Today?


This post goes out to my friend Rich Small. He once told me that I should touch my toes every day for “health reasons ” (coming from a man whose middle name is “bacon”). I have tried it and it really does make a huge difference. I was advised to do it as soon as I wake up so that the blood will get-a-flowin’ and all of the muscles that hurt and ache are stretched properly. (Sidenote: Rich gives really good massages and once commented that I had the worst knots in my back ever (in his time as an amateur masseuse (I am so proud)).

Now, I don’t exercise like I should (or at all). Every now and again I do touch my toes, as advised by the bacon guru. I breathe in and out and yoga move myself (very slowly) up into the air, as if reaching for the sun, and then down to the bowels of the earth. I let my self hang there, feeling the stretch crawl from my brain through my back and buns, down my thighs and calves and into my soul (Oh look, a pun!). I slowly grow taller and feel as if I have awoken from a dream filled with rainbows, unicorns, leprechauns, and David Hasslehoff (The Night Rider Years). I rinse and repeat, keeping my eyes open this time and what do I behold… my awful feet!

Now I’m a lady… crude? Yes, but a lady nonetheless. This summer had been a dread for pedicures. Every time I would plan to get one I’d develop a blister, or get a million mosquito bites, or clip my toenails crooked or too short. There is no way I will go to a salon with an “open wound” sort of thing going on (A) becasue someone has to touch my feet and (B) I am not getting other germies that might be floating around in that little foot spa bath.

The worst is when I go to the nail salon and my feet are finally taken care of. I can hear and see my foot beautician cracking jokes about the amount of cuticle on my toes. Like… I see you showing that tool of yours covered in my skin to your co-workers… Everyone is laughing in another language and having a ding-a-ling-a-ding-dong-gay old time. Of course, I will be the first one to make a joke, but It’d be nice of you to include me in yours. I know I have skin filled toenails… why do you think I came here in the first place? Duh!

Needless to say, I have yet to have my feet taken care of by a professional this summer. I am ashamed. I was either too poor or suffered from the above ailments that deterred me from the professional toe-maintenance technicians. I do have my little foot scrubbie and relied on a late summer beach trip to help exfoliate all the hot mess that is down there, but my feet are a disaster. And yet I still (shamelessly) wear flip flops in public.

I heard somewhere that the minute you stop taking care of your feet is the minute your body starts dying. I also heard that your feet absorb everything. For instance, if you smash up garlic and put it in your socks, in about an hour your breath will smell like garlic. I have not yet tried that one, but I do spend more time worrying about my feet now that I am an “experienced” gal and have had years of wear and tear on these old dogs (yeah, I’ve been around a block or two). Growing up in boys shoes, I have developed a wide foot with a super high arch. Then I stuffed then into high hells and ballet slippers for a few years and what we now have is the beginnings of a Frankenstein foot (I am exaggerating, of course). I’d like to think my feet could one day be sexy, but unless you’re a fetishist, they are not and never will be. Oh, and they smell (because I hate socks).

If you don’t know, now you know (Biggie Smalls (he’s the illest, apparently (Would be as ill if he’d touched his toes everyday?))).

Keep watch over your feet, friends. They are important to your well-being; you use them everyday. They carry you to and fro like the the dance of the ocean. You follow them wherever they may lead you. Touch them often. Doing so will help your entire body (according to things that I read somewhere a while back and have no bibliography for you to reference). And do me and my pal Rich a favor and worship those dirty dogs every day. Bend over as soon as you get up and let the blood rush from your head to your toes and back again. And that was not meant to be dirty… I swear.

Every now and again get a pedicure (even you guys out there). Tell your feet, “I love you.”

Oh and now that it’s in your head…