There are a couple of topics I'll talk about in here that they talk about in the actual t.v. show, "How I Met Your Mother." This can't be helped. The show is frickin' genius and addresses a lot of things that happen in real life. The issues I want to discuss right now are just such things.
First of all. New Year's Eve sucks. There's no other way around it, kiddos. When it comes to stupid holidays on which people drink too much, it comes in number one- though Halloween gives it a run for its money. Seriously, though. People even dress worse on New Year's Eve than they do on Halloween. As I walked out of work last night, I sent Alex two text messages. One said that there were a lot of stupid drunks out. The second said that I was seeing a lot of cottage cheese. "As in on peoples thighs?" she responded like the innocent that she is. Uh, yes, Alex, on peoples gross nasty pale fat and way-too-visible thighs. Seriously, women of Philadelphia, what are you thinking? It's cold outside! Not just a little nip in the air, but, oh, I don't know- dead of winter cold! Frickin' morons.
I really just don't know what to do with the New Year. It's what we lushes like to call an "amateur night". Those who don't know how to drink their weight in bourbon decide to try it out just for this one night and those who are quite skilled in this routine generally sit idly by at work watching said idiots yell at each other, cry, and throw up. As I walked out of work at 12:40 last night, I watched a couple stand on a street corner, she in a mini-skirt, he in some douchey tie, and the two of them fighting while she cried. Seriously, homegirl, you're having a meltdown outside of Marathon: what a terribly depressing way to start the new year.
As for me, I met a few work cronies out at Oscar's (the classiest establishment in Center City Philadelphia, I can assure you). After that it was out to the Pen and Pencil where I watched people shoot dice (even classier, y'all). No, it was not an exciting New Year's Eve. Yes, I did ring in the New Year at work doing paperwork on Aloha. Yes, I will spend tonight there, too. No, I am not excited. But a part of me doesn't care-- New Year's is kinda lame. Except for the Mummers. I would like to go down to 2 Street with the Mummers.
Now, on a somewhat similar vein is New Year's resolutions. I consider them to be dumb. If you're gonna quit something or start something or keep on doing something, do it. Don't resolve to do it just because it's a new calendar. I mean, come on people, it's just a new calendar. And the marker of one year until the apocalypse: 2012, what?! But seriously, resolutions are dumb. They don't get followed and it's annoying to listen to people talk about things they won't do. I know that I can be one of those people who just says I'm going to do something, so I think that I am particularly sensitive to this issue. Not to be a negative nancy, but I almost feel like resolutions set people up for failure. Too much hype.
Which is why my decision to quit smoking is not a resolution. Really, it's not. It's all actually inspired by my co-worker Dan. Dan is... of questionable age. But I'll say somewhere in his mid- to late-forties? The world may never know. Anyhow, Dan quit smoking on his 24th birthday. And he likes to always say that it was the best gift he ever gave himself. So, I'm gonna quit smoking, too. Today. Because today is my 24th birthday. Is it gonna work? Ehhhhh, probably not. I've quit smoking a lot of times before. But who the hell cares, it's at least a goal to work toward without being a resolution. Adios, cigarettes, you've burnt my lungs and sullied the smell of my clothing for too long now! I bid you farewell! (Only to meet again the next time I get really stressed out at work or really drunk.)
Oh, right. Kids, don't ever smoke. It's awful. I forgot that this blog needs to be a sort of PSA because it's supposed to be for my intended progeny. Seriously, by the time you guys can read, smoking will be so passe that you'd be a fool to do it. Oh, it's bad for your health, too. Just don't do it. Dammit.
Stay tuned. Tomorrow we talk about the reason why your mother can't be dated.
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