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2010, Prepare to be Disappointed by Me

January 3, 2010

Another trip around the sun brings us to the frigid temperatures of January once again, and once again wake and I peel my face, plastered with two day-old confetti, up off the kitchen floor and grab the back of a receipt to scrawl my New Years resolutions for this, the year of our Lord 2010:

-I will try to stop watching Jersey Shore. It’s going to be tough to kick this habit, since MTV’s newest hit is like watching a true-life parody of The Real World, but I need to come to terms with the fact that JWoww, Ronnie, Pauly D, Snooki and The Situation are going to have to leave me behind. They have their own lives to lead, and they don’t need me doggedly following them to Karma as they “beat back the beat” and lure paramours back to their swanky, astroturfed roof for some hot tub fun. Ronnie, I hope you hang onto Sammi. Vinnie, I hope you start talking at some point, because you’re easily the least interesting character on the show. And Snooki, you just keep on getting louder and more orange — you crazy, beautiful flower, you. I’ll miss you all– but just like Ronnie, I broke my own longstanding credo of “never fall in love at the Jersey Shore” when I met you, Jersey Shore. Though I’ll be gone, I know you’ll keep those flatirons hot and the mousse plentiful.

-I will try to cook more things I see fancy people cooking on television. There’s really no excuse to be eating Wendy’s Triple Baconator (though what a glorious name) when at any moment I can simply turn on the Food Network and see some charismatic cook garnishing wonderful food in a beautiful kitchen. And teaching me exactly how to do it for myself, step by step. In 2009, there was a noticeable lack of grilled baby leeks with romesco sauce and oven-braised chickpeas with mint yogurt in my life. That won’t be the case in 2010. I’m your clay, Paula Deen. Mold me.

-I will stop trying to engage people in conversation about NBC’s The West Wing. I have to face facts: I came to this party too late, and everything there is to say about this phenomenally-written drama has already been bandied to death by other dinner parties in other years long ago. I never once watched it when it actually aired on the Peacock Network from 2000 to 2006, largely because I was busy peeing gleefully in empty parking lots after long nights at the pub, but I was sick to death at the time of folks telling me I needed to watch it. Now Bravo is airing the series in its entirety, two episodes a day, and I see what all the fuss was about. More importantly, I see how Aaron Sorkin’s name grew to godlike status from this show. I just wish I had someone to talk about it with, but it’s tough to start a conversation about specific episodes a show that ended five years ago, and I’m just going to have to deal with it.

-I will stop referring to romantic comedies as “rom-coms.” I will also stop calling kung-fu movies “chopsockies,” comedies “laffers” and star-centered films “vehicles.” Because I do not work for Variety.

-I will attempt, again, to understand the lure of “ambient” music. I mean, I kind of get it already. It’s a nice, quiet backbeat to one’s life; but at current count there are 57 streams of ambient music on iTunes radio, and that’s not counting the additional 199 streams of “Eclectic” and 379 streams of “Electronica,” which I totally appreciate but many of which I feel should be more accurately filed under “Ambient.” I’m going to take some time this year to put on ambient music as I go about my days — if nothing else, perhaps it will give me the warm feeling that I live in a Banana Republic store.

-I will stop quoting Raising Arizona so often. Because there’s what’s right, and there’s what’s right, and never the twain shall meet. Damn.

  1. January 4, 2010 9:20 am

    One should never stop quoting Raising Arizona. Please, please rethink this madness.

  2. Paul permalink*
    January 4, 2010 12:33 pm

    But we’re a family now, everything’s CHANGED!

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