Two thousand and seventeen. Wow. What a year. What a migraine of a 365 days. A traumatic and emotionally-devastating 12-month period. Am I going to reflect? No. You know what happened, it’s best we don’t talk about it.
So, I know this whole blog thing is kind out of nowhere, but I’ve always kind of wanted to do one after I saw this lady at a Chinese restaurant wearing the nicest sneakers I’ve ever laid eyes on only to find out she blogged and somehow I associated that with the promise of one day owning those sneakers if I just dicked around on the internet. So here I am.
Anyways, I figured I would start this whole shabang just a little bit BEFORE new years so then I wouldn’t name it a “resolution” and never do it. We can be honest here. This is an honest place. Anything before the date of January 1st is an excuse to have a “resolution” in mind to fix whatever shitty things in your life that are shitty just so that you can do whatever shitty things you want until that stroke of midnight (Or whenever you wake up that next day). January 1st is just the buffer day to get that mindset going. Maybe buy some workout clothes. Throw out your junk food. Get rid of all your alcohol. Delete you some social media apps. Construct a blog template. Maybe even put a couple bills in a jar to start that “travel the world” fund you’ve always talked about. Then January 2nd hits… All motivation seemed to go down the toilet, through the sewer and dumped into the sea of fallen dreams. Weeks later, you’re wearing your new LuLu leggings to Walmart to grab some quinoa and low fat yogurt and somehow end up buying chocolate milk and those sea-salt flavored kettle chips you’ve been craving for some god-awful reason. You go home, snack on those god-awful kettle chips that you’ve forced yourself to believe is healthy because the word “kettle” in it, which makes no sense at all. 4 episodes into The Office later, you’re bloated and sad. “Thank god these leggings can expand” you think to yourself. You really wanna hit the gym now, but it’s too late. You’ll never make it on a treadmill. You re-download twitter, because you’re the worst. One thing leads to another, your “travel jar” becomes your “I’ll take money out of this jar because I won’t be able to see it come out of my bank account so I won’t feel bad about spending it on drinks tonight” jar and the only resolution you’ve really had is confirming that you’re a mess and now we can accept that for another year and hope that you wont have any conflicting trauma this next 365 days that may possibly make you spiral even deeper into whatever depressing void you joy-rode into. – I mean, obviously, I can’t relate.
New years is honestly just kind of a burden. You’ve gotta decide what kind of party to go to, if you’re even going to a party at all, if you’re going to go casual or dress up as a literal disco ball and do some crazy craft thing with your eyebrows that I keep seeing on twitter. You gotta decide if you’re going to get completely hammered or if you maybe, possibly, want to remember it. And lastly… But oh, definitely not the least… That New Years Kiss.
It’s hilarious how much pressure most of us put on ourselves to get that goddamn smooch. It’s like… Maybe… Just maybe… It’s how to start off with a clean slate. By exchanging like 80 million little germicides and probably a cold sore that you contracted from this horny, sweaty, probably smelly, “special” someone. The oh-so-magical New Years Kiss; Where there are smooches are brought about by lovers, awkward peer pressure, and/or drunk romantics throughout the world. There are those who will spend their last moments of 2017 with their lips pressed to a glass, a red solo cup, or to their middle finger as they solute their last moments of their “worst year” – As they claim it is every single year. There are the pillow kisses as you can finally your head down in peace knowing that this next year is most likely going to suck, as well as the last one. And you’re ready for the son of a bitch. And finally, there are kisses like the ones i’ve had through all the years of life… Spent alone in my basement, with my lips pressed to the neck of a bottle as I let my memories of the previous year get washed away by the remaining amount of the very non-chocoholic sparkling cider I had my mom pick up for me earlier that day from Walmart. I tried drinking my tears, but they were incredibly salty.
So, 2017… What the hell was that?? For me, it was a blur, a very messy, colorful, kind of amazing, but probably more super disappointing, blur. That contained a never ending loop of trial an error. – And by that, I mean through the exploration of Pinterest DIYs for ‘beginners’ which consisted of countless hot glue gun burns, broken nails, wasted time, shattered dreams, and the occasional screaming. I also mean the end of a very great and amazing, but draining and emotional exhausting relationship. Finally ending the three horrific years of high school. Losing all motivation for almost everything. And successfully putting together a mirror from Ikea.
I definitely went through the “I’m going to work out and try not to hate myself! Endorphins!” moment where you spend way too long making a fitness and motivation board on Pinterest that are made up of pictures of woman with killer bodies that you just know you’re going to have! One hour of soul-ripping Cross Fit?! EASY! You’ve probably even named it “Fitness” or “GET HOT” – Which, if we were being honest with ourselves, would be “I’m never going to do this but at least it looks like I’m trying” board of sadness that we know you spent more time making than actually using. Don’t deny it, ladies! We all know that somewhere in that camera roll you have a screenshot of a work out routine that you just never got around to. AND THAT’S OKAY! If we really hated ourselves as much as we think we do for not going through with it, we would have already gone through with it.
But hey! 2018 will be better right? You’ve got all the girls Tweeting “New year, new me.” which obviously means their going to give up their super evil, conniving and possibly hoe-ish ways and become actual human beings… Which we all know, will never be true. Anyways, here’s to 2018! Let’s hope the world doesn’t end. Or maybe it should. It’s still undecided.
KARLEEANA 