Since I turned 13, my New Year's Resolution has always been to lose 10-20 pounds. It's gone on so long, it's no longer noted on paper - the empty promise just runs on auto-pilot. Not this year! This is the year I get my shit together because there's nothing I long for more than my very, very own Pile of Shit.
Ducks in a row, eggs in a basket, target in sight - whatever you want to call it. It's the much-avoided Adulthood 101 era but this is long overdue. I feel like my branch of the Clisby Empire needs to begin production fairly soon or I will lose my membership card. Today marked the first of many sobering meetings to come with my accountant and it looks like change is afoot. (Mind you, my friend is not an official accountant but she kicks mucho a$ just the same. She said once, "My tombstone will read: "Here lies Andrea. She encouraged many a friend plan for a healthy retirement.")
So, after a year's worth of documenting every single thing I spent, it appears I've been having a grand old time. Evidently, most of my money goes right in to airline gas tanks; my travel budget is through the roof! Looks like I'll need to stay home more ... as soon as I get back from Mardi Gras in February. Oh, wait, right after SXSW in March, I mean. Of course, there is Chick Cabin Weekend VIIII in May ... Shit, this is going to be hard.
Okay, the cable has got to go. Parting with Jon and Colbert is painful but I'll have to catch up with those guys online. Alas, guitar lessons may have to be suspended - might have to be self-taught for awhile. After all, I've got the instrument, tons of sheet music and a good callous or two. Don't the best of 'em originally have more time than money? Anyway, the goal there has never been high - I've always said I just want to be good enough to impress a small cluster of drunk people.
Bottom line - all the stuff I ultimately want - a house, a horse, a kid, various barnyard orphans - must all be financed somehow. Unless I marry rich (if I find a blind one), score the powerball or blackmail Bill Cosby, these dreams will not come true. What I really need is a benefit concert.
What if I got WHAM! reunited just special and called it "Keep Heather Airborne Tour?" I could get Milli or Vanilli (whichever one is left) to MC (or just pretend to) and have Tiffany and Debbie Gibson engage in mud wrestling! I'm just trying to think on a budget here ...
