Shoelaces for Josie

Honorable Mentionables: Eat an entire package of oreos in one day. Dress completely in the same color for all articles of clothing once a month. Play shuffleboard. Buy all the toilet paper in a store and then watch everyone’s reaction when they find that section empty. Learn to speak dog. Lengthen my wingspan by two inches. Meet a sumo wrestler. Make a cardboard cut-out of John Wayne and take him clubbin’ at Applebee’s.

10. Spend my doll-hairs wisely. It’s funny to me that people think the recession is over. Like it’s a bad toothache and the Novocain made all the pain disappear. Even if it is over, inflation will be hot on its heels. I’m good with my doll-hairs, but I think sometimes I can get a little lax with where I’m putting my spending power. That’s kind of a grown-up thing to say. It’s a stodgy, curtain-print old-lady dress type of grown-up thing to say, but this year, I want to make sure I’m not being a floozy with my pennies.

9. Visit seven places I’ve never been. I like to see new places and experience new things. Something about stepping into a different vehicle or a different town or a different mountain satisfies the wanderlust in me. It forces me to adapt, to think on my feet. It allows me to drink in all the new sounds and sights, broadening my view just a few inches more. I don’t know where I’ll go, who I’ll meet or what I’ll see. Maybe it’ll be something like Alaska or maybe if I think really big, it’ll be Ireland or Australia. But it could be something commonly ordinary like shopping at a different grocery store, stepping into that corner pub or hiking a new trail. This year, I want to see something new, hear something new, feel something new.

8. Be a good dog mom. You know, I call Doc my kid a lot on here, and he is. But I’m not fanatical about him. He doesn’t wear sweaters or eat out of a porcelain dish or sleep on the bed – crikes, he doesn’t even sleep in the house! I like my dog, but he’s just a dog. He’s not a human kid or a gunnysack of gold or a year’s supply of homemade soap, just a dog. But even though he’s just a dog, I want him to be a happy dog. A dog who gets a lot of exercise both physically and mentally. A dog who is well trained, respects me and loves me. Dogs like that don’t just happen; they take work. This year, I want to be dedicated enough to my kid to be a good dog mom and help him become the dog I know he can be.

7. Chill. The. Heck. Out. My head gets crazy full what with all the thoughts mashed around the brain tissue and…the cerebrum. And sometimes I think too much, worry too much, feel too much…dude, I know. Totally annoying. And useless! All that brain power churning through cell after cell only to conclude that yes, I should indeed put the mixing bowls on the second shelf instead of the first. This year, I want to remember that this is life, chill the heck out and enjoy it.

6. Tick off the second anniversary at the ole jobsky. Partly because a steady paycheck makes paying bills a lot easier. Partly because I don’t know what I would do with myself if I didn’t have a job other than potentially pursue my childhood desire of becoming a cheese-maker. But mostly I’d like to mark off that date to prove to myself that I can stay in one place for more than a year and be okay.

5. Write. More. Lots more. I’m not sure I’m really all that gifted in writing or putting together words in a way that makes others want to read them. I’m not sure I’m really all that great at coming up with stories and funny quotes and breath-catching poems. But when I write, I feel like I’m doing what I’m supposed to be doing. And when I write something that I like, well, it makes me happy. Not the bubbly-three screams-extra cheese-double coupon type of happy, but…restful happy. Peaceful happy. The type of happy I think we all hope to find and hang on to. So this year, I want to write. More. Lots more.

4. Learn something new, step outside my comfort zone. I’m quick to dismiss something simply because I don’t know how to do it or how to handle it. Mostly that’s the result of my apathy towards stepping outside my comfort zone. A comfort zone is like going bowling with the gutter bumpers in place – you can’t fail. But when I’m learning something new, I feel stretched. I feel on the edge, because I’m headed into uncharted territory. It’s a mini Lewis and Clark expedition, and this year, I want to put on my coonskin cap and take a lot of mini expeditions into the wild frontier known as Things I Don’t Know But Am Willing To Try (TIDKBAWTT).

3. Less material more meaning. When I was a girl, mom tried to teach me to sew. Even back then I knew the less material, the less complicated it was going to be and I think the same thing goes for my life. Materialistic things – they are nice and I’m not against them. I certainly like my coffee pot and my computer. I’d enjoy the heck out of a new flat screen television, a pair of diamond earrings or something like, say, a truck. But these things, they are merely things and when I think about what makes me giddily happy inside, none of them can be bought with a dollar. Or a fist full of dollars. This year, I want to fill my hours with more meaning and less material.

2. Stop, drop and roll around in the flowers. I get a little crazy sometimes, a little nuts-o in the head. Sometimes, a lot of the time, I get so focused on the destination that I miss out on the journey. Like long road trips – it’s pedal to the floor and eyes on the horizon with stops allowed only for gas. If you’re going to ride with me, you better learn to either hold it, expand your bladder or get really good really quickly at peeing in a bottle. Roadtrips are supposed to be about seeing what’s out there. Is there really anything so terribly urgent that I can’t take 30 minutes to see something really cool? And I do that with more than just roadtrips. I do it with life too. So this year, I want to remember to take the time to stop, drop and roll around in the flowers and enjoy the journey.