Towards Another Summer

As January stretches her snow-white arms around me on this gorgeous morning of early 2019 and I drink my morning joe from the brand-new Hollola novelty mug Santa brought, a list begins to compile.

Some resolutions for this year.

Try and quit using the more disgusting swear words. I know in my heart I can never lose the habit of using them entirely; I am, after all, my father’s daughter, but let’s have some order around here, what do you say. Choose a few select fineries and lose the fowler ones.

See parents and sister more. Last year was the year of surrender and adjustment and letting go. Now, let’s get on with it.

Be kind, to people in general. And if that is totally out of the question, try to at least remember your Grandfather and think how he would handle the situation. People are usually trying their best, just like you my dear, and only rarely is anyone deliberately trying to hurt you specifically. They are busy, their clothes are on backwards, they are tired, their dog just ate their homework, they haven’t watched Gilmore Girls for two whole days, they are having the worst day ever, they need to vent, it doesn’t matter at whom. So it’s at you. Suffering this does, however, make you the Queen of Everything, so there’s that to tide you over the abuse. Also, remember to cherish more the fact that you have this. With the random abuse comes the friendship of some rare, gentle souls, the best workmates a girl could ever have.

Get money affairs in order. (*Dies of laughter.)

Be nicer to man. And when that’s completely impossible, don’t be unnecessarily lavish with the offensive.

Remember to make hair appointment for next week. Get a haircut.

Milk, eggs, honey, apples, pine seeds, toothpaste. Oh, and laundry detergent, and a greeting card, and a new sweater, and some paper clips.

Don’t spend all your money on clothes. So, strike new sweater, add new books.

Don’t spend all your money on new books. Read the goddamn ones you already have.

Write more letters and postcards to family and friends.

Convince man to go to Paris again. Shit. There goes the money resolution. (Now it goes?)

Tell yourself each morning that you are pretty. It doesn’t matter if it isn’t true every morning.

Know who your friends are.

Go easy with the wine. “Now I know why so many writers become bloated alcoholics”, says Frasier in season one’s Author, Author.

Remember: clowns to the left, jokers to the right.

On this note: Wear your court jester’s hat to work at least once this year.

Don’t be an insufferable fuddy-duddy. Unless it is absolutely necessary.

Be cool. Don’t be all uncool. I realize this is the single most difficult resolution from the entire list, and, truthfully, impossible to keep, but perhaps after losing it try and calm down quicker?

Then again: rampage when rampaging is due. It is really good for you, and all of us Mommy’s Good Little Girls, No-Trouble-At-Alls, Extremely Obedient and Well-Behaved Little Ladies of our generation.

Write Thank You -notes to at least Neneh Cherry, Feist, St. Vincent, Cat Power, Lorde, Florence Welch, and Julie Byrne.

Knit pairs to both already started wool socks, began in a late-night fury of this latest crazy Christmas knitathon of ours. Don’t just let them lie there on the couch cushion the rest of the year, alone, pairless.

Use the following phrases as often as possible: “You’re a goddamn shit-sucking vampire! Just wait till mom finds out!” “I’m Chandler. Could I be wearing any more clothes?” and “Yes, we Crane boys sure know how to marry.”

Learn to iron shirts. Maybe.

Love early and often. Appreciate romance even more. Allow for things to happen. Be in awe of life, because it is awesome.

Make with the funny as often as possible.

The title for this piece was borrowed from the divine Janet Frame with lots of worship and thank you. You are gorgeous.