Hmmm...let's see...
Okay okay okay yeah; resolutions for the year. Resolutions. Res-o-LU-tions...
What year is this, anyway? Because lately they've all kinda blended together, so...yeah. 2010. 20-10. Two thousand and 10.
10.
Crap.
Crap.
Crap.
Shit.
Fucking hell. ALREADY? It's the 10 one al-READ-y?
All right, here we go. My two undying Res-o-LU-tions. Or well, at least undying until the point of my resolve is met.
First I want to be published. Well, I mean, I want my novel to be published - so I resolve to do everything I can to make that happen.
Second, though...
Second one is a little weird. It's that Sparky guy. About him. It's not like I'm not happily married (Robin said to herself, rationalizing), it's just that I do like a nice tidy bow on my...stuff. And it drives me batshit when I can't get that tidy bow.
It's not like Google's done me any damn favors on the search for my tidy bow thing, ya know. Big damn deal. Search engine, my white ass. What's the point of searching if you can't fucking FIND? That's what I wanna know.
I'm not a big quest fan. Not unless the thing quested for can be quested for and found in the space of a no-real-intelligence-required TV show. Say...an hour. Not countless hours, dammit. Screw Google.
So my second resolution, now that I've been through a laundry list of who-the-hell-is-he's, isn't really a resolution after all. It's more of a quiet request, phrased in the manner of a resolution...I resolve that if Sparky does indeed eventually throw a party; even if he wears a movie star mask and speaks in a tongue I can't understand (which wouldn't be too tough as I only know a bit of German and how to say food words in Spanish)...I resolve to attend.
Besides, I think I really do know who he is now. Again.
--Robin S.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
Classic Robin. And wonderfully written. Hope you and Sparky, you know, spark something. Some kind of recognition buzzer might help if you each carried one.
I got as far as "What year is this, anyway? Because lately they've all kinda blended together" and had to see whose this is, and yes it's the inimitable Robin. Nice one!
You had me at "10."
I remember my wish (never fulfilled) in '01. IT really is 10. Time has its way...
Zeroes on the end of years do tend to have that effect.
Also —when I Googled my white ass, none of the 25,836,284 pasty looking buttocks I discovered were, in fact, mine.
Post a Comment