And a happy new year!

2009 is over in 11 hours.
This time last year, I was preparing for the same night of merriment and insanity: a black-tie event with my best friend where we watch the Disney channel and all sorts of other random stuff. This year, we add Desiree, an equally best friend, to the festivities.
It's going to be awesome.
New Year's resolutions impossibilities:
1. Take up smoking, then quit (Andrew's suggestion)
2. Stop eating anything (Suggested by a friend that thinks the standard "lose 20 pounds" just wasn't horrible enough)
3. Get out of debt (not likely to happen, as I haven't graduated from college yet and the bulk of my debt is from that)
4. Fight for the rights of ants more (they should feel safe in their hills, damn it!)
5. Start biting my nails (kind of like stopping biting your nails, only the opposite)

Actual New Year's Resolutions
1. Work on accepting that there are things beyond my control
2. Embrace change for the possible positive impact it will have, no matter how much it may hurt
3. Be less passive aggressive
4. Give up on things less
5. Open up to people more

Looser criteria than people normally have, but I figure new year's resolutions are supposed to be about developing your character. Granted, there is no quantifiable way to tell if I accomplish these. I feel like this doesn't really matter. As long as I keep them in mind, some good has to come of them, right?

Christmas bells, those Christmas bells ring through out the land, bringing peace to all the world and goodwill to man!

Have you ever noticed that tinsel has a very distinct smell? It is the kind of smell that I have only ever associated with tinsel.
Seriously, go smell some tinsel. Do it. Right now. The rest of this blog will wait to be read while you fulfill your quest.
If you are reading this at some point in the future and no longer have tinsel within reasonable smelling distance, next time you do, take the opportunity.
And if somehow you are reading this during Christmas of 2010, Hi to you from the future. I hope things have gone well for you since this was written a year ago. If they haven't, well, I'm sorry. But you know, I hear 2011 is supposed to be a good year. So we'll see.
To continue on the train of thought I was headed down before I forced you to go on a tinsel smelling escapade, good morning! How's it going? How was that tinsel? It smelled unique, didn't it? Eh?
Yeah, I really had nothing more than the tinsel thing to go off of for this blog. I've been sick and hopped up on Nyquil. Give a girl a break.

So perhaps the whole goth thing isn't for me...

It was brought to my attention yesterday that if I were to "go goth" I would have to stop using deodorant and showering. While I would probably be okay with saving money on such hygiene products, I'm not sure it is worth it just to have the self-satisfaction of doing something stupid.
Also, I don't think I own enough black eyeliner or eyeshadow. I would have to waste the money I saved on deodorant on liquid eyeliner instead. I mean, we are talking inch thick eyeliner. That is A LOT of eyeliner.
It was also noted that as I was wearing bright orange, hot pink, and nearly neon yellow yesterday, I was not off to a good start with the whole "black only" concept.
Alas, I will have to choose some other ridiculous phase to go through for my new year's resolution.

Dirty clothes tell you a lot.

Three loads of dark laundry have told me that I am a mistress of darkness. I have decided to only wear the black clothing and invest in a tube of black lipstick and fingernail polish. I am going to go through that pre-teen/teen goth phase in my early twenties. I'm sure I'll outgrow it by the mid-twenties. Either way, I feel I will grow from this experience. If nothing else, I will learn how to wear too much eyeliner. SCORE!

The one load of whites has told me that all I really wear that is white are socks. And a white shirt. A. As in 1.

Looking through the one load of lights I have to wash and saying, "Have I ever actually worn that?" indicates to me that I have a severe case of poor memory.

Overall, the fact that I have five loads of laundry and could probably still make it for a week on what I have clean tells me that I have far too many clothes.

But looking at all of them (clean even) I still scream out, "I have no clothes!!!"
Ask my roommate. She's seen/heard it.

It's like Farenheit 451, only twisted around.

I had a dream last night that my books were making me stand trial for favoritism. The main charge against me: I read some of them more than once and others I have only read parts of. Most of the books that I only read parts of were for class, so I only HAD to read parts of them, but they still took this as a personal offense.
Then there were the books that were so bad, I willingly put them down and never picked them up again. Most of these books had jury duty. I was sentenced to four years of college, during which I could not read for pleasure, only painful, painful punishment by class reading.
I missed my parole date because I read the Twilight books during Sophomore year. Such an awful book series to be imprisoned for. I'm sure Stephenie Meyer wouldn't be willing to go to jail for it.
Thankfully, this was all just my subconscious being as weird as possible.