I began 2010 with only two resolutions. I make resolutions every year, out of a deep-seated fear that not setting up impossible goals for myself to fail miserably at will leave me with nothing to mope about, and this lack of moping could cause an unnecessary build up of angst, from which I will explode, like a well-beaten pinata in really great boots.
To be fair, I also began 2010 with a fuzzy hangover and a sharp regret that I had told the guy who offered me $500 to see my tits to fuck off, shortly after the 10 second countdown on the dance floor the night before.
Five hundred would have covered strata fees and groceries, and there was no good reason for choosing that moment to gain a sense of propriety.
Groceries shouldn't matter however, because I have resolved not to eat in 2010. The fact that I'm typing this with shortbread cookie crumbs in my hair should surprise nobody. I'm pretty certain I may have eaten this resolution with a Toblerone chaser last night, and it's the reason I have heartburn.
It's very important that I find some sort of compromise with regards to not eating in 2010, because there's a good chance I'm going to Kelowna for business at the end of February, and there's an even better chance I've already made my guy Alex aware that I'm going to be in his neck of the woods and would like to see him. When I do, I had better be 20 pounds lighter.
I will neither confirm nor deny that in addition to telling him what dates and what hotel I'll be staying in, I also told him what I planned to be wearing to bed and what I want him to do to me when I get there.
If I had told him such things and if I had agreed that it would be a really great idea for him to stay with me...well...those would be interesting developments, given my second New Year's resolution was to stop doing stupid things.
I'm thinking of revising this resolution to read: I will not do anything stupid on a day not ending in Y, or on the eighth day of Ramadan, between 2:00 and 2:45 pm.
One would think I'd have had my fill of doing stupid things in 2009, but I have an incredibly high tolerance for ridiculousness, as evidenced by just about every blog post I've every written.
However, I do want 2010 to be a better year. I want it to be a more honest year. I want it to be a year that I can say I missed no opportunity to express what's important to me, and to have that happen less by accident and more by design.
Perhaps that can be my third resolution.
When I see Alex in Kelowna and I'm looking amazing and 20 pounds slimmer, I'm going to tell him good-bye for good. I'll tell him how I feel about him for the first time ever, and it will be my explanation for why continuing the rather intense friendship that we have is too painful.
Telling a man that you love him too much to continue staying close may seem counter-productive, but so is being the sounding board for his sexual exploits, and even worse, the occasional warm-up act via webcam as he prepares to go to bed with somebody else.
Expressing what's important may be painful in the short-term, but so much better in the long-term. Even though I fully expect one or both of us to be naked at the time when this very important conversation takes place and that will indeed be stupid -- I'm only trying to keep a resolution here.
Becoming a fully-evolved person will have to wait until after I get home, tested for STIs and have somewhat recovered from the cheesecake coma I expect to have to medicate myself with.
It's going to be a great year!
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