Happy #*%@ing New Year

As the clock counts down to 2006, Gilroy residents are heading
to the gym to buy memberships, roaming the aisles of drug stores
for nicotine patches and logging onto Internet dating sites. All
hope to actually stick to this round of New Year’s resolutions.
As the clock counts down to 2006, Gilroy residents are heading to the gym to buy memberships, roaming the aisles of drug stores for nicotine patches and logging onto Internet dating sites. All hope to actually stick to this round of New Year’s resolutions.

Whether it’s to find lifelong love or to shed some pounds, resolutions need to be simple and reachable. I should know – I have a string of unreached resolutions from the past.

One year I decided I would become a vegan, eating no food that contained any kind of animal products. I did pretty well living on broccoli and beans for about five days until my sister, Juliette, sabotaged me.

One day after work, I came home starving. Innocently covering the kitchen table were a box of Girl Scout cookies, some Twix bars, a bag of Doritos and Abazabas candy bars. At that point, in my state of hunger, my mind just wasn’t working. My chocolate-loving instinct drove me to the table, and I almost involuntarily opened the candy and went to town.

I apologize to all of the cows, chickens and eggs I’ve munched on since.

While we’re talking about chocolate, I tried giving that up one year as well. Then I realized I was just being a darn fool.

This past year was my first real success. In 12 months I paid off all of my debt and managed to stay pretty fashionable at the same time.

In 2006, along with doing more charity work and keeping in touch with my friends on a more regular basis, I have decided to give something up that has been a part of my life since I was a child.

It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, but it has helped me through some stressful times. In some situations it has helped me express myself to others, and when I stub my toe or smack my head on something, it’s always there to help me with my frustration.

I remember the first time I discovered my soon-to-be pastime. I was about 6 years old. In a Rainbow Brite swimsuit, I was swimming in our neighbor’s pool on Eschenburg Drive with my sister, brother and a few neighborhood kids.

When I was growing up, more than 20 kids lived on that street. Half of them were older than I was, so I learned a few things that I probably shouldn’t have learned so young.

At the pool party, one of the kids was singing a song about kangaroos and ducks in a zoo. The song had something else in it, too: the thing that became a habit, the thing I’m vowing to give up in 2006.

It wasn’t until I got to high school, then more so in college, that it became a bigger part of my life. It came with me to parties, it was part of several jokes and it was very much frowned upon by my parents. Sometimes they’d even refer to me, their darling daughter, as a sailor or truck driver.

These references – and the fact that I’m kind of a grown-up and need to start talking like a “lady” – are why I must give up one of my worst habits.

Cursing, I’ll miss you.

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