it's the new year's revolution

yeah, i know you're gonna say i'm late with my new year's "resolution." HA!

again, i say unto you, "HA!" valentine's day is the perfect day to come out with my resolution.

i wanted to wait until a few weeks had gone by before i posted anything, because i wanted to show that i've been keeping my resolution. by now, over a quarter of us out there have already dropped the resolution, and by next month over half will have. by the end of the year, the number of people who can smile and say they kept their resolution will be a measley 20 percent.

now, i know i just said i had a resolution, but i lied. i made a new year's REVOLUTION.

since i first discovered boys (aka "time out of mind") i've been looking and hunting and manipulating and sacrificing and conjuring and wrangling up the perfect mate. i reached wild success in failing miserably. i achieved phenominal success in encountering a great many examples of what the perfect mate wasn't. i blew my own mind with the success i had in discovering the exact ways i did not deserve to be treated.

go me! WOO! learning experience is muy bueno!

so then...i discovered the secret to success in my hunt for locating the perfect mate...

LOVE SPELLS!!!

and all of them complimentary from the televisionary oracle! while standing in a mud puddle and hugging myself, i dissolved a four-leaf clover on my tongue and visualized myself riding piggyback on the one i love.

i drew a picture of copulating hummingbirds on a dollar bill and taped it to a road sign on a street with a sexy name.

then i stood on top of a mobile home wearing all red clothes, and hurled a chunk of stolen meteorite as far as i could while shouting out the name of my beloved.

then i built a blazing fire, stripped naked, smeared war paint on my body in the style of native american warriors, shook my snake tooth rattle and waved my mummified chicken foot over my head, hopped on one foot, and balanced a jello cake on my head.

...'kay, no, not really.

what i did do was forget all about trying to glom on to my perfect mate and instead decided to make myself into the perfect mate. this year, i wine and dine me and make me my perfect lover and mate.

who cares if i find anyone? i want to be my perfect mate, and it all comes down to two qualities: beauty, and truth.

and not just those painful and languishing truths that a person has to realize before true transformation can occur, but those viciously ecstatic truths that make you look up and say to the Sly Universal Virus With A Wicked Sense of Humor, "you so rock!"

and beauty! beauty in everything and everywhere! beautiful body, beautiful smile, beautiful soul, beautiful vulnerability, beautiful strength, beautiful temper, beautiful health, beautiful fallibilities, beautiful friendships, beautiful intimacy, beautiful projects, beautiful failures, beautiful novels (oh, by the Funky Ya-Ya, i hope so!).

beauty! beauty! rah rah rah! and truth!

my diet so far has been fabulous. every morning i run about 40 minutes on the elliptical machine, just close my eyes and meditate...and just go. it's over before i can completely finish my dreams. a lot of my best thinking is done there, too, and channeling my anger and frustrations into the task of breaking them down into their useful base particles so i can turn them into something better and more useful. then i sculpt my body with windsor-pilates, and while my ass and abs cry and throw curses at me, i smile and tell them i love them.

then i exercise my brain and my soul. y'know, that great, huge, vast thing that was there when the Jiggy Snake invented 'pop goes the weasel' and which is stuffed inside this teenie, finite, crude matter vehicle i'm using this trip around on planet earth. i'm reading a few select books, but a fine sculptor doesn't need a vast array of tools. michelangelo had a hammer and chisel, and yet from poor quality marble he coaxed out David.

of course, having been to massage school, david is a nightmare of bad posture, weak ankles, and uneven hips, but that's totally beside the point.

with these few tools, i'm sculpting my brain, psyche, soul, and past into a phenominal, phantasmagoric, garishly elegant present that's gonna rock me into oneness with the Heroine With a Thousand Ruses.

it's a new year's revolution, baby!