Resolvarium

As I mentioned yesterday, before getting distracted by a girl whose name is apparently "Apple Pucker", I was going to talk about my goals for the coming new year. Now, I know this is a shock to many of you that I would seek to better myself like this. I mean, how do you better something that's already so grand? Like, how can you make Boticelli's "The Birth of Venus" any better (well, for one, get rid of all that hair...). But, dear readers, I have looked in the mirror and discovered a few things that I could perhaps improve. So, I will list them here.

Remember, last year, I went on a whole great big thing about how I'd save money by making my own coffee. It's probably true. Anything I saved, however, I predictably pissed away at the end of the year...buying more coffee while tutoring (by the way, if anyone in the Raleigh-Durham area needs a chemistry/biology tutor, drop me a line). So, I mostly stuck to that resolution until the annual end-of-year hedonistic largess hit.

Anyway, my New Year's Resolutions for the year 2008 A.D. are as follows:

1) Regrow a gall bladder. I've taken stock of my organs and decided that I am lacking one of these. I must regrow it. If only to be handily serviced by a blonde nurse named Jamie once more.

2) Shave more often. I grew out that big-ass hairy beard last summer when I thought I was going to star as Hagrid at my wife's Harry Potter Release party, and have since grown lax in my shaving and personal grooming habits. But, no more! From here on, I shall shave more than just on Monday morning and will thus no longer resemble a Nerf herder. Speaking of Harry Potter...

3) I resolve to care less about what British teens are doing. The judge was very specific about this one.

4) To play less Civilization III and to read more of my own stories. Really, there's no elaboration needed here.

and 5) Begin reducing the size of my guttus maximus. In what I like to call "Operation Jumbo Drop", I've decided to actually stick with it and lose a few pounds...or 30. We'll see how this goes, but for once, I've actually become kind of fired up about losing the weight. Perhaps it has something to do with the survey crew who have been staked out around my belly button recently. I have a Doctor's appointment in four months, and I need to be under the weight I was when I went last year, or I'm fairly certain my doctor is going to beat my ass. Or maybe make me run in front of a cartoon rendition of Gillian Anderson. I bring you peace.

I will buy a scale, because I want to see how my progress is going. I'm a scientist (allegedly) and I'd like numbers to follow up my progress. Since shooting my ass through the LC/MS won't tell me what I want to know (plus, I'm notoriously insoluble in methanol), I'll have to rely on the scale. And you better believe I'm weighing myself naked, because my clothes don't come with a tare weight. Plus, I'll be naked.

Feel free to run screaming from the blog now.

Oh, but before you go, I give you this story out of South Bend, IN (home of the University of Notre Dame, where I went, in case you've, I dunno, been asleep the past year or so). I really don't think this was a Halloween prank; clearly, this was a scout for the Scarecrow People, and they're looking to take over.