I have to make dinner, so that should tell you my New Year’s Eve plans are NOT exciting. The sequinned dress will NOT be pulled out tonight. But I think I should blog before we set 2009 on fire. That’s what we here at Chez Tanya et Spouse would like to do to it.
BTW, my spouse is all atwitter because Ray Liotta stood behind him in the Starbucks’ line this morning. I told him to get over it: if it was the real Henry Hill, then he could get excited!
I’d like to post some long, rambling diatribe about what I’ve learned these last 12 months, and what I plan to do in 2010. But let’s be honest. You want to get our drink on, and who wants to read my philosophical bullshit? Even I don’t want to read it!
What I can say is I’ve been knitting like a mofo these past two weeks, because I’ll be taking a break as of next week. I’m making an appt. with the bank to cash in what I can of my 401K, and I’m job hunting like there’s no tomorrow. Will I cave and take something at Starbucks or Bed Bath and Beyond? Stay tuned. Desperation has no pride.
If I never knit another one of these…okay, I just need a break.
And I’m trying to use my plethora of pink, burgundy and red on some Valentine’s Day specials. Behold, the first:
Okay, photos done. I wish I had a better camera, but that ain’t happening.
Look, I’ve learned to live on less, A LOT LESS, in 2009. I quit smoking, thus saving a lot of money and I guess a lot else. Save the lectures! I bought very little for myself clothing-wise, and found the joy of consignment shops when I needed a tiny $15 pick-me-up. I sold what I could to the tune of almost $1000 on half.com. And I have more to sell.
I learned that going to Sephora constantly isn’t necessary. I can do with some Maybelline Great Lash, Nars Orgasm Blush (which lasts forever) and a little Revlon lipstick. That’s really all you need.
I could use some new bras, but I’ll quit my bitchin’. That’s one thing I’m REALLY sick of. People and their bitchin’. I’m gonna stop there.
I wish I could have made a go of my “cottage industry” in 2009, but I know it isn’t to be. It’s great for a little “supplemental” income, but I will never make a living on it. C’est la vie. I tried my hand at designing, and though I will be a published writer (in a way) in 2010 — I got my proofs two weeks ago, snap — this is no way to make a buck, people. It’s not for me.
My confidence took such a hit this year, it was hard to feel good about my accomplishments, whatever they may have been. That needs to change. I’m constantly amazed by our ability as people to take each other down, peg by peg. I went through that this year, and it wasn’t pretty. I lost people who I thought were my friends. Why do women turn on each other? I will never understand. Give me a man as a friend any day.
But you know, there are no failures, only lessons learned blah blah blah.
I really have no deep resolutions for 2010, because they never stick. At least I don’t have to smoke my “last cigarette” at 11:59 this year. That one never seemed to work, anyway. I guess all I want to do this year is become a Neo-Luddite. I’m serious. I’m sick of Twitter. I want a rotary phone. I want to listen to my old records, esp. the the Ray Charles and Stax ones, and drink some Tab and Fresca.
So there you have it.
I will tell you a secret: I have always had a theory (I have lots of theories, many of them of the conspiracy nature) that odd-numbered years are supremely unlucky for me. So I have a good feeling about 2010. And 10 has always been my lucky number. It’s true!