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Every year it's the same thing. Try to find something I won't suck at and make it my resolution for the coming year. Over the years it's gone something like this: I promise to lose weight, to fit into size 8 jeans again, give up chocolate, try not to drink so much Diet Coke, and make millions. And thus by continually putting myself in these positions I am always setting myself up for painful failure. The kind of failure that makes my teeth hurt.

Even when I was young and understood for the first time that resolutions could purify your soul and wash away all your sins from the previous year if you could just plain stick to them, I just couldn't make it happen for myself. Really the only time we assess the previous years achievements is at the stroke of midnight, kind of like a millisecond of a fond remembrance right before the mandatory kiss, "This year was awful, well except the fact that I didn't pick my fingernails, so really it was great because I stuck to my resolution, so I achieved something and that makes up for the fact that I gained 94 pounds, spent most of my time binging and purging on Diet Coke, and didn't get asked to homecoming. Sweet." Smack.

But that never happened to me when I was younger because my teenage resolutions were just too pie-in-the-sky for any sort of successful achievement. They ran the gambit from: save up enough money to buy the Guess jeans with the flap pockets and the snaps, make the hockey captain fall madly in love me, or win a gold metal for throwing the farthest on my softball team to: get a perm that made my hair look like Farrah's, try to understand geometry better, or try not to lip sync every single day to Billy Idol in my kicky black ankle boots with the cool side fringe. With these lofty resolutions it's no wonder I was a mess every year. The stroke of midnight would inevitably come and I would find myself sobbing on a couch alone, arms wrapped around my midsection, because not only had I not achieved any of my resolutions, but I had also managed to cheat repeatedly on my math tests, only managed to save fifteen dollars, and the hockey captain was now calling me a whore.

By the time I was out of college I couldn't even say "resolution" with getting teary-eyed. So instead of making ones I could stick to I just invented unattainable ones like: Marry Axel Rose or offer the use of my uterus to Michael Jackson. It's things like that which lead to later-in-life issues, I'm telling you. My issues have been stacking up for a good 38 years and it's time I set myself up for some much needed success.

This year I'm trying something different, something attainable. Something I can actually succeed at and by achieving that success I can learn to be a full woman again. I can start on the path to whole. I'm setting up the criteria in a orderly fashion with each step having a back-up, so by the end of the year if I only achieve the very last item on the list they will all count by osmosis. Because that's just how it works.

After extreme consideration and careful thought I have crafted 10 attainable items for myself.

My 2008 New Years Resolution List goes along as follows:

10) Give all my money to charity

9) Get a part time job baby-sitting at Kid Zone but refuse to accept any reimbursement for my time

8) Convert my gas guzzling dolphin slaying boat into a more efficient and economical hybrid

7) Use calm and insightful parenting skills instead of the much-beloved ass-kicking style

6) Don't gossip about the crack whores in my neighborhood

5) Don't fucking swear at anyone

4) Don't over-spend on handbags

3) Buy energy efficient light bulbs and gracefully ignore the orange glow in a gallant effort to save the otters

2) Allow my kids to speak again at the dinner table

1) Always where a thong when stepping out in linen pants

These may all seem too lofty for any one woman to achieve, but you can bet your bottom dollar that I'll be working hard on my goals for the coming year, and thus regaining my fragile self-worth in the process. Since I've already spent quite a bit on handbags recently, that one's all shorn up.

Here's to 2008!

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