Twenty oscar niner

The new year is upon us like a fat lover. Unlike most years, I actually enjoyed (didn't hate) this past one, so I embrace this upcoming year with a bit of ambivalence. In fact, I'm going to resist it as long as possible. This protest will take the form of writing stale-dated cheques and constantly referring to the Vancouver Olympics as "two years away".

It's not that I fear the future, but more specifically: events in the future. In fact, my prediction is that 2009 is going to suck. Mark my words, this will be a year full of:

• Terrorist or terrorist-related news stories
• An unpredictable financial market
• Deaths of noteworthy people (both expected and unexpected)
• A medium-sized disaster of some kind
• Car accidents
• Lists
• Et cetera
  

But I don't know what the future holds for me. After seven consecutive weeks of convalescence (and sobriety!) one's outlook becomes dimmed, like the view from underneath a fat lover. Here are my resolutions for 2009:

1. Make the content on this blog interesting for a change (maybe?)
   
2. Replace my skepticism with a combination of asceticism and mysticism
3. Refer to myself in the fourth person (whenever it figures out what that is)
4. (Finally) sign up for those Esperanto classes
5. Start smoking (so I have a resolution for next year. In billiards this is called "setting up your next shot".)
   
6. Get a girl preggers then 'bort that shit/Then I'm a write it all down and rap 'bout it
   
7. Start a drunken fight in a bar but get out of it using a cockney accent and a lead pipe
8. Grow my religion; apply for tax credits
9. Run (the interesting part of) a marathon
10. Perfect the omelette

It's a good start at least. To the century, I mean. The naughts have been hot, I must admit. Let's hope we can round this decade out with a modicum of dignity, as doubtful as that prospect is.

Happy new year!