Personally, I've never seen the appeal of New Year's celebrations - something I mean literally, since I am not capable of staying up until midnight basically ever, holidays be damned - but who am I to resist as good a blog prompt as New Year's resolutions?
That's right; I have goals. They are simple, modest goals. And here they are: my resolutions for 2017.
1. Cry over reality TV 5-10% less often. You'd think this would be easy since I no longer get TLC in my cable package and therefore don't have Say Yes to the Dress to get emotional about. But don't doubt me - I've cried over that Amazon imam-and-priest ad more than once.
2. Take down my Christmas tree some time before the next Advent begins.
3. Be enough of a grown-up to finally trust myself to own dry shampoo without using it as an excuse to never shower again.
4. Vacuum. Like, at least once.
5. Make it through an entire year without breaking a pair of sunglasses. (Note: since all of my sunglasses cost $3.50 off of a spinning rack at Forever 21, this is exceedingly unlikely to happen.)
6. Officially memorize all the dialogue from Mean Girls, at last.
7. Correctly predict a JK Rowling Harry Potter revelation before she makes it. Early guess: McGonagall and Trelawney briefly shared a tiny London flat as broke college grads and sooooo many wacky hijinks ensued.
8. Decide on a new favorite Kardashian now that Khloe is skinny. My current front runner is North.
9. Get a loaf of bread from grocery store to home without smashing it.
10. Carry hair ties on me more often so I can stop CONSTANTLY DISAPPOINTING MYSELF by thinking I have one and digging around only to discover I DON'T, LIKE AN IDIOT. Not that that happens a lot.
11. Match the liner on my left eye to the liner on my right someday. Not because I care, necessarily - more just because I'm curious what it's like to have fine motor skills.
12. Use my stack of cookbooks a few times as something other than a pedestal for my Pop-Tart boxes.
13. Steadily become even more hilarious and fascinating than I already am.
So there it is, folks. Check back in twelve months to see me at my dry-shampooed, even-eyelinered best. If you need me in the meantime, I'll be in my apartment, watching Khloe Kardashian's Revenge Body instead of working out. Happy 2017!