Hot People Don't Sit Down

So, one of my resolutions this year was to "do less." I think my (I hope) notable absence from the cyberwaves is an indication that I've already failed at doing less.

That being said, I'm really quite proud of how I've managed to "do more." When I was in university, all of my energies were focussed on three things: doing well in school, drinking on weekends, and attending debate tournaments...mostly for the purposes of drinking on weekends (perhaps that's actually two things with one sub-thing...bahaha). In my first year post-university/post-employment, I've managed to do a whole heck of a lot here. Sometimes that means my cat becomes king of the apartment and I'm just some person who comes by to warm up the bed at night and leave some food in the dish in the morning. But it also kinda means that I'm a mover and shaker - which, considering my social resignation when I started this blog, is a huge deal for me. Not only have I become a participant in the social fabric of my community, I've also become a performer. I've moved from medicating my shyness with copious amounts of alcohol (with sometimes disastrous results), to putting myself on display for tens of people. I'm hoping to get some of the stills from the performance to post up here. I played a nine-month pregnant farm girl. They're pretty funny.

And I'm pretty happy with myself. But not completely. I'm just finding a little difficulty with the balance of happinesses. I love being involved...having my finger on a pulse, or what-have-you. But when I'm so engulfed in activity, it's really hard to be...active. Physically, speaking. Or, you know, eat foods made of food. And I've gotta say, it certainly doesn't make me happy when NOT A SINGLE PAIR OF PANTS THAT I OWN WILL DO UP COMFORTABLY. Of course, the play's over and in a month or two, so will all of my other extra-curriculars. I'll have the whole summer and miles of country highway sprawling before me and my bicycle. But I know the same thing's going to happen next year and I'm FINALLY learning that given the choice between being fun and being fit, I'm going to choose fun every single time. And I'm going to languour in my resulting corpulence every single time as well. So, the key is to find ways to make fitness fun. Seems like a no-brainer, huh? Halp.

Hot People Set and Achieve Goals

I just ended a five year relationship. It was my decision, and I think it was the right one, but I've just recently come to the horrifying realization that I'm single now.

I don't know how to be single. I've never known how to be single (this might explain a. why I was single for so long before my relationship, and b. why I stayed in the relationship for so long). But all these people keep telling me they love being single (you know...single and loving it?)...so maybe I should give it a try, right? Don't I look excited at this prospect?

Problem is, I'm painfully bad at meeting new people. I'm not good at making small talk, or being interesting. One might wonder, then, why I'm blogging. Well, here's why: I've noticed that hot people have no trouble meeting new people (mostly because new people are VERY interested in meeting them). So I've decided to become hot. I realize this is not a SMART goal...so I'm putting a deadline on it. I'm going to be hot in six months. For reals. I'm blogging about it because frankly, if there isn't anyone to keep me in line, I just won't do it (See: Miss T does the dishes every day) - and I also think that my misadventures (and they WILL be misadventures) in becoming hot will make for a delightful sense of schadenfreude (I can laugh at my own expense, right? That way it comes out even).

So, how am I going to do this. Well, I know I have piles of room for improvement. Par example (...sometimes I like to pretend I'm French), last night was my first night alone. I was very scared. Supper of champions: Pillsbury Pizza Pops, Ben & Jerry's Ice Cream, Smirnoff Ice. Obviously, hot people don't have this for supper. Nor do they go for the leftover ice cream for breakfast, like I did this morning. That would just be too indulgent. I understand this is a bad start...but I was scared to be alone, and there's really nothing like alcohol and trans-fats to make you feel comfortable. Dancing my ass off at the club (instead of sitting alone on my couch and watching chick flicks all night, which is what I chose to do) might also be a potential change.

So here I begin my quest for hotness, and we'll see where we end up in six months. I'm pretty optimistic about how this is going to go (but I was just as optimistic when I tried to do the dishes every day). I think my determination is obvious, though. Just look at me staring off into the distance, envisioning my future hotness and the wonderful life it will bring me!