The “Better Me Express”: Fifteen Crucial Resolutions for the New Year

Written By Cathy Drinkwater Better

The following are my New Year’s Resolutions for 2009, or, as I like to call them, “The ÔBetter Me’ Ô09 Express.” By this time next year, I’ll be a much improved human being. Or I might have fled the country. You never can tell how these things are going to turn out; there’s bound to be some collateral damage.

1. I usually suck all the cream filling out of the cupcakes before giving them to my husband, Doug, telling him that I’m sacrificing my own health in order to save him fat and calories. It’s a lie. I’m doing it because I only like the cream filling. I’m still going to suck the cream out of the cupcakes before I give them to him; but in 2009 I resolve to stop lying about it. (Yes, my cholesterol is 873; but I think of it as doing my part to keep my doctor’s kids in private school.)

2. Stop buying cat toys of every description by the gross and get our cats a subscription to U.S.News & World Report. Our cats don’t want to play “Get the Shiny Object!” Apparently they prefer a quiet game of, “Our Humans Appear to Be Idiots,” while sitting there, looking smug.

3. Take up dog-sledding; train for Iditarod. I know this sounds nuts at my age; but I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like to hang onto the back of a sled while a pack of barking dogs drag me, at 60 miles an hour, through a frozen wasteland, with absolutely no landmarks other than the undulating Northern Lights to show the way. (Note to self: Get reliable compass and appointment with good psychiatrist.)

4. Become a lion tamer. I already have experience: I used a whip and a chair to clean out my kids’ rooms when they were growing up. You never knew what could be hiding in there. And I still use the old whip-and-chair method when I clean forgotten leftovers, evolved into higher life-forms, out of the fridge. Sometimes I even used to find leftovers in my kids’ rooms that had evolved into higher life-forms. Even now, I don’t like to think about it; I get nightmares. But I love cats, and I don’t see working with the big ones as any scarier than disposing of an old athletic supporter that’s been under somebody’s bed for a year, or a container of spaghetti and meatballs that’s been festering in the back of the fridge for six months. Frankly, given the choice, I’d take the lion any day.

5. Try out for swimsuit model, over-55 age category. (Note to self: check into cost of fanny-implant; tummy-tuck; face lift; boob job; personal trainer; make-up artist; hair extensionsÉ.)

6. Every load of laundry I do expels harmful chemicals into the waterways, no matter what it says on the bottle of my “green” detergent. (The way I see it, anything that gets guacamole stains out of my socks HAS to be dangerous). So beginning in 2009, I vow to use only peanut butter to clean our clothes. If this gums up the washer, Doug can fix it. He’s very handy.

7. Reprogram car’s navigation system for interstellar travel. I see no choice, given state of the economy, world politics, and global warming. I hear Pluto is very nice this time of year.

8. Find third-grade teacher and apologize for throwing up on her shoes after lunch on Government Surplus Cheese Day. I’ve been carrying the guilt all these years, and I’ll never be able to move on unless I make this right. (Nobody told me I wasn’t supposed to eat the fuzzy green parts.)

9. Put finishing touches on invention that gives harmless electrical shock to door-to-door solicitors. The only bug I haven’t worked out yet is how to get the device to distinguish between hucksters and people I want to ring the bell. (I did a test run the other day, and now I’m being sued by UPS.)

10. Stop running out onto the field with my camera during Civil War re-enactments yelling, “Hold still while I get this shot!” Last time, I nearly got shot – and I don’t think it was an accident.

11. This spring, instead of pulling weeds for hours and treating the lawn with harmful chemical weed-killers, use a flame-thrower. It’s not only quick and easy, it will scare away the deer (and any kids who want to play in my yard).

12. Stop wasting my time and money trying to keep the deer, groundhogs and bunnies from eating my flowers. Instead, open a petting zoo. I say, if you can’t lick Ôem, join Ôem.

13. Avoid my annual all-over case of poison ivy – which lasts from approximately April through September – by wearing a biohazard suit 24 hours a day, even when sleeping. Yes, this could hamper marital intimacyÉ but so does a searing case of poison ivy. (To help in that department, paint a bikini on the outside of the suit.)

14. Stop using over-the-counter brands of facial moisturizers. They obviously don’t work: recently I was offered a senior citizens’ discount that I don’t qualify for yet. Instead, try new all-natural skin products made exclusively from yak butter. I have yet to see a yak that looked its age.

15. Finally: Go on a diet to GAIN weight. In the past, every time I went on a diet to LOSE weight, I put on three pounds. So this year I’m going to try to fake out Mother Nature and do the opposite: by trying to gain weight, maybe I’ll lose a couple of pounds. I figure it’s worth a shot.

I’m going to start implementing these resolutions early on the morning of January 1, 2009 – just as soon as I get up (around 11:59 a.m.), have my breakfast (a large chocolate Danish), and do my weight-bearing exercises (repeatedly lift the TV remote while watching QVC, the Home Shopping Network, and ShopNBC all at the same time). I feel like a new woman already!