I’ve been waiting for the fat lady to sing on this one for about ten months.
As the last few hours of 2012 were about to roll and we were waiting for our NYE guests, between muddling limes and smashing ice for caprioshka’s I told The Artist I was so happy to see the back of 2000 and fucking 12. It’s been a crap year. A year of indecision, a year of feeling physically not as strong as usual and not having the wherewithal to say “pull your finger out of your arse and get on with it” and just a kind of ugghhh year of mediocre everything.
In saying that I am not bounding into 2013 with a backpack of resolutions strapped to my very sunburnt self. Perhaps I should resolve to be better with the sunblock, hat and umbrella when spending the day on Bondi Beach? And no – if you see me in the next few days, I did not get Botox for Christmas, I got sunburn for New Years Day.
Going back to the resolutions, a few nights ago I decided that what’s lacking is more personal. Simple, everyday inspiration deserted me. Along with much laughter. Yes, there are things that amuse me, but laughing out loud – that real stuff, not so much. Where the hell has it gone I ask? And yes, holding onto that toxic stuff – small aggravations – can’t be the stuff that laughs are made of. Even when you try and “laugh” them off.
Spending time with friends over the past few days I’ve heard many resolutions – to stop drinking, to start exercising, to eat healthy.
Putting that all into a simple nutshell (hopefully one that housed a tamari almond – yes you buggers – where have you been all my life?), I think we’re after that basic happy feeling. Whatever that means to you. And let’s take the pressure off people. How long can we live in a cooker of our own design?
I’m still not going out there resolving this or that. I’m going to just see what happens and try to make sure that 2013 rocks the house.
Wishing all of you “the happy”. May 2013 make us laugh.
Love and light
p.s. I found this and couldn’t help myself. Bahahahahaha!