Resolution

I hereby resolve that in 2012, I will clean my room every single day.

THE GYM

Dear The Gym,
I'm going to savor every day with you until January 1st. After which, I will still love you with my whole heart even though I might have to avoid you a tiny bit due to throngs of New-Years Resolutioners.
Love, Liz

Listen Nena

My friend Lisha used to work at a summer camp. One time, she was trying to get a group of little kids into line. "Okay, let's line up right here." A five year old Hispanic girl looked Lisha straight in the face, whipped her finger in the air, and said, "Listen, Nena, you don't be telling me what to do."

Merry Christmas!

Read this for Christmas. Trust me.

And remember the old Luke II video? I love it too.

Reddi Whip

Today James and I came home for the annual Dad's side of the fam Christmas party. There was some Reddi Whip in the door of the fridge. I couldn't resist. I grabbed the container walked down the hall out of earshot (Mom hates it when I do this) and sprayed some straight into my mouth. YUM.

Dear Katie,
Thanks times a million for introducing me to the word sketchtacular. It's probably like the awesomest word conglomeration ever.
Love, Liz

The Wordle of My Final Paper

Want to make one? Just click here.

Bearded Guitar Playing Men

Ask me how long I've been listening to this song on repeat.
On second thought, don't. But trust me, it's a long time.

I maintain that nothing in life inspires ambivalence like a bearded man.

Bright Red Fingernails

Dear Miss Carolyn,
Thank you for this and so many other exquisite postings on your blog. Today while reading, I got carried away in your delicious prose and the form of your words. I hope my future daughter will take an English class from you. Maybe we can even connive her into going out with your future son, who I hope will be at least as tall as girls of our height love our men to be.
Love, Liz

My Thoughts on Swimming

Went swimming yesterday for the first time since 1993. Just kidding, it's only been like a month or two, but that's not the point, the point is that I'm pretty sure swimming is the most therapeutic workout ever invented (alongside biking and yoga, of course). For me, swimming looks like staring down at the black line rocking the breathing (one for two or one for three) and keeping track of laps. When I lose track of my laps, I just drop it back down to the last number I remember while repeating the glide, power, glide, power mantra and thinking about whatever it is that needs to be settled that day. But since I am so busy gliding and powering and lapping and breathing, I can't think about anything long enough to get concerned about it. Rather, my mind settles itself into the water, and by the time I leave, I am a svelter, lither version of myself with a satisfied mind and slow, steady breathing.