According to many who promise us that they are “in the cosmic know” about such things, we haven’t much time because the world is coming to an end in 2012. If I were younger, even while I was outwardly saying, “Pish Posh!” to such nonsense, inwardly I’d be sweatin‘ bullets. Luckily, I’m of an age where one of my many thoughts on this subject is, “Well, I’ve lived a pretty charmed life … so far, so fabulous.” Then, I’d make sure I have an abundant supply of lethal narcotics in the medicine cabinet and that my gun is loaded.
Now that I feel fully prepared for the end of the world, I’m pretty excited about 2010, the first of my two remaining years. “In optimism there is magic.” I’m going to have that as this year’s theme. I’ve tried to be depressed a time or two in my life, but it never lasts more than about fifteen minutes. I mean, I’ve really tried…sort of like an eye-squinting strain for that good BM. It’s going to happen for you or not … either way, you have to get up and try again tomorrow.
On a professional level, according to January’s alignment of the stars, not that we pay attention to that unless it’s good news in which case, we believe it to be true…The Midlife Gals are going to kick some serious butt … open up a can of Whup Ass … and take our madness and middle-aged mayhem off the charts! We’re ready! We’ve been ready for fifty-seven and fifty-nine years. We’re prepared to be the ‘winning team.’ And, we SWEAR to remember the little people … including the midgets. Actually, we can’t be stopped even if someone were to try to stop us. When you’re from west Texas, the only way out is up, up, and as far away from there as you can go … with apologies to those of you who chose to stay, but really—seriously—why??
So, collectively, we’d appreciate a miniscule amount of your two-year’s-worth of time left to lift your voices and sing our praises should we need good references. It will only take a second, and you’ll be rewarded in your scramble to explain to St Peter in 2012 all the good deeds you tried to cram into those last two years.
I guess everybody is stating their New Year’s resolutions today. Many are making sure to have a good year by eating black-eyed peas, and probably half of the population is finishing a Bloody Mary with extra Worcestershire sauce. It’s really the Worcestershire sauce that kills the hangover and not the hair-of-the-dog, as many people think. That stuff will grow hair on your balls even if you don’t have any.
KK and I had a really nice New Year’s Eve at a restaurant called “Bess.” Sandra Bullock owns it. It’s like having dinner at your old, Aunt Jezebel’s mansion, only there are twelve drunk Uncle Beauregards and the grand kids didn’t marry into good gene pools. I like the crystal chandeliers and cute bartender girls. They were fun. They may be covered in tattoos but they make a mean Manhattan and they know the final episodes of Dexter and Breaking Bad.
I’m not making any resolutions. I refuse. I give up. I’ve never kept any of them anyway. Instead, I’m going to carry on regardless, and hope the Beaujolais nouveau is good this year. I just don’t want to set myself up for disappointment again. Nobody can say I haven’t learned from my mistakes. Okay, so I drank too much last night and ended up watching old episodes of Gilligan’s Island at two o’clock in the morning. People have done worse.
So…onward through the fog, pour me another Bloody Mary, and don’t let the door hit you on the way out. After a three-hour nap and a long shower, I should be ready to start the New Year. It’s gonna be a great year for The Midlife Gals. The stars say so, and KK and I will make it so.