I Resolve for YOU

My love of Year End Wrap Ups has been sufficiently documented, but frankly, I'm too lazy busy to catalog The Best And Worst Of 2010. And as most of you also know, I am really into seasonal goals that don't actually do much to improve my character or increase my health. Whatever! Those are the only goals I sometimes accomplish, so judge away. But let's discuss that one topic that never gets mentioned this time of year: Resolutions.

Since we have reached that blessed time when humans everywhere take stock of their many shortcomings and give a Valiant Effort – till March – to correct noted flaws, I am going to change it up a little this year. I'm going to make resolutions for other people. It's both a talent and a service! Here is the list I have come up with so far:

More restaurants should resolve to offer sandwiches/paninis with Nutella as the main ingredient. Because very nearly everything tastes better with Nutella. In fact, it should also be offered as a sauce/side to all entrees and appetizers. Watch out ketchup!

The Indianapolis Colts should resolve to win more games. I mean – what happened? Peyton is practically Zeus reincarnate. I know there have been injuries and yada yada yada, so maybe Austin Collie and Dallas Clark should resolve to
stop getting hurt.

THE NEIGHBORS should resolve to stop smoking, stop buying horrible yappy dogs they neglect, stop re-landscaping with their newfound inheritance money since we both know it will be a field of weeds doubling as a parking lot in a couple months anyway, and stop living next door.

All authors everywhere should resolve to create a male character that doesn't have crooked/lopsided/uneven but Completely Adorable smile. Please tell me that I'm not the only one who gags when EVERY MALE LEAD in every book has this wack mouth. Or maybe I am the only one who notices, because I don't have many YA fic lovin friends and am probably totally alone in this grievance. But whatev – the point is: What does a crooked smile look like?! I get that it's supposed to be this cute and unique faux-flaw on Otherwise Flawless Boy – but it always sounds kind of gross to me.

Celebrities and "celebrities" should resolve to stop naming their babies crazy-a names. Pilot Inspektor? Buddy Bear Maurice? Perhaps I ought to send "Welcome to Earth!" cards to these rich and famous, complete with tips on How To Not Screw Up Your Child Who Will Probably Interact With Normal Humans For The Rest Of Its Life.

What about you guys – any resolutions you would make for everybody else?

Dear Santa,

We've never had a real chat, you and I. And by real I mean me writing a blog post on The Internet to you, which of course you will receive with delight. I think you'd agree that it's time we cleared a few things up.

So here's the deal: I've been a goodish girl this year. I turn a blind eye to THE NEIGHBORS, I recycle, I stopped flipping people off when they cut me off in traffic. I even smiled at some nutty old lady the other day in Trader Joes. That's what we call PROGRESS, Mr. Claus.

So my question is thus: When will I finally get the awesome presents that I deserve?

I know they say that this season isn't about the presents you get, but that is a load of LIES. Gifts are the reason I stuff my year full of good deeds. And at this point I think I have earned something more than flannel pajama sets and scented candles.

What I'm trying to say is that I need black Louboutin pumps, a big Marc Jacobs purse, and a dainty gold necklace for starters. We can move onto bigger items next year, since there is some supposed economic crisis going on.

I don't want to sound all scroogey with my needs; it's not like I don't love the Christmas spirit because I DO. This is the only time of year I stuff myself full of nogg and gingerbread cookies ON PURPOSE. It's just that I appreciate tangible benefits for all the troubles I go to with my giving heart.

And should you doubt that I deserve what I so desire, let he who is without blame cast himself off the sleigh. YOU, Jolly Ole' St. Nicholas, are the one who sees us when we're sleeping and knows when we're awake. In other words, pervy.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Tara